


Song of Kylo: The Jedhan War

by Nevermore (KAS_AuthorsApprentice)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Based on the iliad, Demigod warrior Kylo, Hux doesn't suck in this one, I Don't Even Know, Rey is a badass in disguise, Star Wars cosplays the Trojan War, Stormpilot, a little splash of Troy, don't worry no damsels in distress here, plus a dash of Song of Achilles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10489329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAS_AuthorsApprentice/pseuds/Nevermore
Summary: After years of war, peace is finally struck between Jedha’s King Luke and High King Snoke. But when Poe of Dameron steals Snoke’s ward, Finn, in the dead of night—the peace treaty is not the only thing that collapses.King Snoke and his best warlords bring their armies to the beaches of Jedha, determined to take back Finn…among other things. Among the Achaeans, is Kylo of Ren, the demigod warlord feared throughout the land.Kylo’s loyalty is put to the test when he discovers that his war prize, Rey is not all she appears to be.Can snoke win “The war that will be remembered for one thousand years." without his best warlord?Can Kylo's soul be saved?Can the prophecy be believed?





	1. Peace

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a giant hodgepodge of history, The Iliad, Troy, and Song of Achilles in which Kylo stars as the demigod with but one weakness...and Rey is that weakness.
> 
> Rey is not in this chapter but worry not, she is on the way, and she will not be the wilting flower that Briseis is in the film version.

μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος

οὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί' Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε' ἔθηκεν,

"Sing, goddess, of Achilles ruinous anger

Which brought ten thousand pains to the Achaeans,

And cast the souls of many stalwart heroes

To Hades, and their bodies to the dogs

And birds of prey."

-Homer, _The Illiad_

 

**Prologue:**

**Peace**

 

Peace negotiations.

Kylo found the idea amusing if not a bit misguided. The warrior plucked at the small bunch of purple grapes on his plate as his dark eyes scanned the sea of men and women who crowded the grand dining hall in the great city of Moraband. News of today’s auspicious event had traveled far and wide. All those who heard it gathered to bear witness to the once unachievable peace treaty.

Peace between the collection of Achaean cities now called the First Order and the ancient kingdom of Jedha.

Peace between High King Snoke of Moraband and the idealistic recluse, King Luke of Jedha.

Because _that_ couldn’t possibly end badly. 

A tall, blonde, amazon of a woman sidled up to Kylo’s table. Kylo hardly recognized her without her heavy armor. She sat beside him arranging her long limbs beneath the skirt of her silver peplum. “You know, this is a peaceful gathering. Dressing in full armor might offend our guests. Sends the wrong message and all that.”

Beneath his helmet, Kylo glared at the Queen of Illum. “That’s the point.”

“Still not on speaking terms, then?” She gave a knowing smirk. “Where’s Hux? Aren’t you two usually joined at the hip?”

Kylo shrugged, “Off flirting with the wealthy daughters and sons, I’d wager.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to your brooding. I’m going to go meet our guests.” Queen Phasma of Illum rose and stalked to the table of honor, regal as Hera herself, where she proceeded to kiss hands and courtesy.

Princess Leia of Jedha sat beside her husband pirate turned royal, Han. Kylo’s eyes didn’t linger on the pair. There was nothing to see there that he didn’t already know. Nothing he cared to be reminded of.

Instead, his eyes found their adoptive son. Poe of Dameron. The greatest warrior in Jedha was a broad, muscular man with tight brown curls and tawny skin. His face was handsomely sculpted, every bit the model prince, despite his low birth. Leia and Han couldn’t have found a better champion if they tried. The thought left Kylo cold.

A loud gong signaled the arrival of their host. Kylo’s master, High King Snoke swept in with his entourage. The crowd fell silent in the wake of his steps, holding a collective breath as he approached Princess Leia.

Kylo felt his fists clenching around the grapes, the juices staining the leather of his gloves.

Neither Leia nor Snoke smiled. A look of resigned understanding passed between them. This was a hard won peace. Not easy for either of them to swallow. But it was a necessary evil for the sake of both the Jedhan and Achaean people.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Kylo that King Luke wasn’t present. Instead, he’d sent his twin sister to do his negotiating. King Luke was holed up somewhere in Asia Minor in his Lost City. There were rumors about the Lost City. Rumors of its riches, its opulence. Snoke practically drooled when he spoke of it. Kylo was certain that the Lost City was a big motivating factor behind this peace treaty.

Snoke’s veiny, withered hand emerged from his heavy furs, extended toward Leia. She looked between it and his eyes for a moment. When she grasped his hand in hers the crowd erupted in cheers. The music resumed and dancing commenced. 

As the night wore on, Kylo remained in his seat, observing. No one dared approach the armored sentinel in the corner. No one but Hux, who’d appeared to slap Kylo on the shoulder, then whine about the armor damaging his hand.

“You get an eyeful of Poe of Dameron? Never seen a man so pretty. Think he’s as deadly as they say he is?” Asked Hux.

Kylo’s lip pulled back from his teeth. “Doesn’t matter. I could still beat him.”

“I know you could,” Hux said, “That’s not what I asked, was it? This is why people don’t like you.”

“You like me. Phasma likes me.”

Hux rolled his eyes but said nothing more as they were interrupted by the High King’s mistress who appeared at their table in the finest silks, her dark hair all an artful tumble around her shoulders. Bazine of Netal smiled at Kylo, ignoring Hux entirely. “Warlord” She greeted.

“Bazine,” said Kylo disdainfully, squirming a bit under her gaze. She swept closer, leaning in so Kylo had a good view of her cleavage. Hux made gagging faces at the she of field of vision.

“Why don’t you take off that silly helmet. I much prefer the sight of your gorgeous face.”

“Perhaps I’m hiding from you,” said Kylo.

A grin split her full lips as she mistook his words for flirtation. “Well, I’ve found you,” she said, “Now, it’s my turn to hide. I’ll be in the baths if you want to find me.” She sauntered off, swishing her hips.

“Please tell me you’re not encouraging this,” said Hux, his cheeks as red as his hair.

Kylo shrugged, “She’s a vile creature…but she passes the time. Have to relax somehow.” Truth be told, he _was_ considering the invitation. He was growing tired of the celebration, tired of hiding from the Jedhans. The sooner he was out of their sight, the sooner he could take off this ridiculous disguise. He got to his feet. Hux protested but Kylo waved him off and stalked to his stateroom.

He removed his armor, placing it reverently on its stand. He draped a linen tunic around his hips and padded on bare feet down the hall to the baths.

The air was close and steamy. The aroma of rose and lavender oil was a bit too strong but not unpleasant. He could already hear her inside. His body hardened in reaction to the sounds even if his mind protested. She was a distraction and nothing more. Besides that, she belonged to Snoke—though he didn’t seem to mind sharing her. A cringeworthy thought.

He rounded the corner and froze. It was not Bazine that he’d heard. It was Poe of Dameron and Snoke’s ward, Finn. Kylo slipped behind a pillar, using the steam as cover to get a better look at the two young men.

They were seated on a bench facing one another, their hands loosely resting on each other’s elbows. Their heads were inclined toward one another and they were whispering something. Something Kylo couldn’t quite hear over the ambient lapping of water.

What were they doing together?

Did Snoke know?

Did Bazine?

Kylo disected this new information in his mind. Their countries were at peace—finally. Ostensibly, there was nothing wrong here. Still, Snoke was unusually protective of his ward. No one was good enough to speak to him, let alone do…anything else to him. Then, there was Bazine. Kylo knew that on nights when he refused her, she found her way to Finn’s bed.

Bazine wouldn’t like this and Kylo was sure that the King of Kings would not approve of Poe of Dameron, peace treaty or no…and yet, Kylo found he had no desire to expose them.

Kylo had his fair share of secrets.

He knew what it was to harbor them.

The loneliness of it.

The shame.

No, he would not bother them. If Snoke and Bazine found out, it would be their battle to fight. Kylo wanted no part of it.

Kylo left them there in the baths, forgetting all about Bazine. He went to his stateroom and drifted off to sleep, happy with the knowledge that sun would rise and take the Jedhans far away from his home…then, everything would return to normal.

* * *

The sun _did_ rise, as Kylo predicted. The Jedhans had already boarded their ships and were sailing across the Agean…but they left chaos in their wake.


	2. Prophecy

"Nothing can be revoked or said in vain

nor unfulfilled if I should nod my head."

-Homer, _The Illiad_

**Ch 1:**

**Prophecy**

 

Kylo entered the war room to find the Kings and Warlords already assembled. The room was dark, despite the morning hour. A fire warmed the corner casting an orange glow across the stone walls, all of it blanketed by a low din of excited conversation.

Kylo slipped in between Hux and Phasma who both looked as though they’d been pulled from bed and tossed into the crowd. Kylo wasn’t fairing much better.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Hux shook his head. Phasma shrugged.

At the head of the table, Snoke was turning varying shades of purple and Kylo thought his eyeballs might pop out of his skeletal face and roll across the parchment map spread on the table top. Part of him hoped for this.

All of Snoke was decrepit…all but his voice, which could still silence a room with little effort. “I invite those lecherous barbarians into my home, I offer them peace…and this is how they repay me!” Snoke shouted.

To Snoke’s right, Bazine’s pretty lips pouted. To Snoke’s left, there was an empty space—a Finn sized empty space. Kylo felt his stomach drop to his feet. He made a mental list of everyone in attendance.

Snoke. Bazine. Phasma. Hux. The five other Kings and Warlords who made up the First Order— Ajax, Nestor, Sinon, Thoas, and Leitus.

Finn was not here.

Sweat beaded along Kylo’s hairline. What exactly had he witnessed in the baths? More than a tryst? More than a secret. Kylo trained his eyes on the parchment map. If Snoke asked him if he knew anything, what would he say? The King of Kings could smell a lie a mile off. He’d know Kylo was lying.

“I knew we couldn’t trust the Jedhans. Now they’ve gone and stolen Finn.” Bazine complained. Kylo wasn’t the woman’s only treasured toy.

Snoke steepled his long, bony fingers beneath his chin, adopting a serious expression on his sunken face. “The Jedhans have violated the terms of our treaty. They have stolen what is mine and we will not stand for it.” His eyes moved over his audience, one by one. “We always knew this day would come. If it couldn’t be peace, it would be war.” His eyes fell on Kylo. “There will be glory in this war. Glory beyond anything we have imagined. Men will write stories of our conquest. History will honor us. The Gods favor our cause.”

His words were having the desired effect. The powerful men and women around the war room table began to nod, lips cracking into greedy smiles. Even Kylo felt his blood pulse at the word _glory._ He liked the feel of the word, enjoyed the way it rolled on his tongue.

“So, what say you brothers? Sisters?” Said Snoke. “Will you sail with me to Jedha? Will you take what the hands of history have so generously offered?”

 _“Huzzah!”_ Came the cries from all but Kylo.

Glory was one thing…his estranged family in Jedha was quite another.

* * *

Han stood at the bow of his prized ship the Millennium Falcon, eyes trained on the horizon. The sun was high overhead and there was nothing but crystal blue for miles. Han had been a pirate all his life—a wanderer at best. He’d never admit it to anyone, least of all to his wife…but he’d grown more and more fond of their home in Jedha. He found himself yearning for the feel of their bed; the dull warmth of the sun as it came through the terrace doors at a certain angle each morning; the smell of the pink bougainvillea blossoms that crept up every vertical wall of the palace.

Han smiled, glad that their diplomatic duties were finished. Glad to be headed home. He knew Leia was as well. She hated to be away from home almost as much as she hated Snoke. Watching her make nice with the High King of the First Order for the past month had been humiliating for both of them. 

He walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her from behind, tucking her small body under his chin. “Won’t be long now.” He said.

She gave an absent nod and continued worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind, Princess?” Asked Han.

Her large brown eyes craned up to look at him. “You know why I agreed to go in Luke’s stead, don’t you? I thought maybe we’d see him. I thought that Ben might—“

Han dropped his hands from her waist. This was a battle they had fought too many times. A battle to which there would be no victor. “Leia, you knew as well as I did that he wasn’t going to be there.”

“But I had hope.” She insisted.

A throat cleared and Han turned to see Poe watching them, absent of his usual smile. “Han…can I talk to you for a minute? In private?”

Han blinked at him, surprised and entirely suspicious. He nodded and followed as Poe led him down the ladder to the lower deck. A figure stood in the shadows wrapped in a dark himation cloak.

“Poe, what’s…” His words died on his tongue as the figure slowly emerged into the light. Han took in rich dark skin, full lips, kind eyes--too kind for any progeny of Snoke. “Finn?” Han looked back and forth between the two young men. His adoptive son met his eyes with unyielding ferocity. Finn, for his part was more subdued, almost afraid. Surprise quickly gave way to anger. “What the hell have you done?” Han growled. He slammed his fist into the wood of the hull.

Poe flinched. “I won’t apologize.”

“Good, because I don’t want to hear it.” Han stomped back up the ladder. “Turn the ship around!” He bellowed. “Back to Moraband!”

“Han, what’s going on…oh my god.” Leia’s eyes fell on the two young men following Han up the ladder. She stomped over, hand reeled back, prepared to slap Poe across the face. Han thought it was an empty threat. Even he cringed at the sound that rang out across the deck when her hand met Poe's cheek. In the long silence that followed, Finn came to Poe's side and Han drifted to his wife's.

Leia's voice was shaky, on the verge of tears. Tears not just for Poe's mistake...but for all of it. For Ben. For the treaty. For her people. “Do you know what my family sacrificed to make peace with the tyrant Snoke? You spat on ten years of work. You’ve invited war to our shores. How dare you?”

This time Poe had no words. It was Finn who spoke. “He didn’t act alone.” Said the high king’s ward. “It was my decision to come…and it wasn’t just for the reasons you think.”

Han folded his arms over his chest, waiting for what he was certain would be a flimsy excuse.

Finn produced a rolled parchment from his cloak and held it out to the princess. “It’s the map to Lost City. Snoke bribed one of your Captain’s for it months ago. The peace treaty was a ruse. He’s been after Lost City the whole time.”

Leia took the scroll, unrolling it slowly. Her mouth fell open as the map of Lost City unfurled before her. Han cursed under his breath. It had been a trap and they'd walked right into it.

“Is this the only copy of the map?” Leia asked incredulously.

Finn nodded.

Leia looked a the map for a long moment finally, lifting her eyes to her husband. “To Jedha.” She said.

“To Jedha.” Han bellowed to the crew.

* * *

Kylo made his way to the secluded spring at the base of the cliffs upon which Moraband’s palace stood. He perched on the pebbled shore, sighing as the sunlight warmed his pale skin. His mind pondered the turn of events.

Snoke was going to Jedha of all places.

A lifetime ago, Kylo had been a different man, and that man had called Jedha home.

When he’d turned his back on Jedha, he’d done so with no intention of returning there in this life…but he could hardly disobey a direct order from the King of Kings. Snoke expected Kylo and his Warriors of Ren to lead the attacks. It would be Kylo's greatest achievement. The war he was made for.

“You seem awful lost in thought, Grandson.”

Kylo peeled open his eyes and nodded to his grandfather who slowly emerged from the spring’s waters, skin and tunic dry as the desert sand.

“I assume you are here to talk about Jedha.” Said Anakin.

“You know?”

The Nymph chuckled, “Oh, Olympus is in shambles over it. The Gods are waging their own verbal wars as we speak.” Anakin perched beside his grandson and placed a hand on Kylo’s ripping shoulder. “You are torn.”

Kylo shook his head in denial but he found that he couldn’t make his tongue obey. “Yes. I don’t want to go back there. You told me when I left that Jedha was not my destiny.”

Anakin nodded, this was the answer he’d been expecting. “The force works in strange ways. Your destiny has changed. I have seen it.”

“What am I to do?”

"It is not a question of what you must do...but rather what you will do." Anakin looked away. He picked up a seashell, dusting the sand away so that it shone the same way his fair skin shone in the sunlight. “Do you remember what I told you when I gifted you with your armor?”

“The prophecy? Yes. My name, the one I chose for myself, Kylo Ren, is destined to last through the ages.”

“Well, that was only half of the prophecy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me there was more?”

“You were not ready to hear it. Now, you are. The rest of the prophecy says that, if you go to war, men will tell your story throughout the ages…but you will never return from Jedha. Your glory walks hand in hand with your doom. You have two paths--one dark, one light. That choice is one only you can make.”

“I will die there...in Jedha.” Kylo slowly nodded, not entirely surprised by that. He’d always known he would go out with a weapon in his hand. It was a good death. An honorable death.

Anakin said nothing. Instead, he enclosed his palms over the seashell. When he opened them again, the shell had been transformed into a beautiful necklace of pearls. He held it up to the sunlight, admiring his work for a moment before pressing it into Kylo’s hands.

“Grandfather—“ Kylo turned to find that Anakin was gone. Kylo ran his fingers over the smooth flat pearls. Anakin’s words sinking deeper and deeper into his mind. Your glory walks hand in hand with your doom. It didn’t scare him they way it might’ve scared other men, men with families, men with things to lose. Kylo had none of that. Kylo had only his name and his sword…and the promise of glory.

He was going to Jedha.


	3. PolemistÍs tis Nýchta

“Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.” 

― **Homer** , **The Iliad**

 

**Ch 2:**

**PolemistÍs tis Nýchta**

 

Rey lie on her back beneath a laurel tree. It was her favorite spot for meditation. The field of yellow daffodils that unfurled around her made it feel as though she was lying on the very surface of the sun.

Her eyes drifted closed and her mind focused on the feel the thin fabric of her robes rustling against her thighs in the breeze. She tried to clear her mind as the elder Jedi priests taught her.

There was nothing.

Only flowers.

Sky.

Breeze.

Ships…wait, ships?

Rey’s eyes sprang open.

From her hill she could see the walls of Jedha to the North, the wide river Scamander to the East and the beach to the South. If she squinted, she could, in fact, make out the faint outlines of Princess Leia’s fleet. A wide, dimpled grin split her face and she scrambled to her feet, dusting errant flower petals from her white robes as she ran toward the Sun God’s temple at the crest of the hill.

“They’re back!” She yelled as she ran through the doorless entryway. She nearly bowled over poor old Master Kenobi. “Sorry.” She squeaked.

He furrowed his brow at her. “Running around screaming like a schoolgirl is unbecoming of a Jedi Priestess.”

Rey struggled to even out her breathing. “I’m sorry, Master…but the fleet has returned. I can’t wait to see them. It’s been months!”

His face remained stern but there was a bemused grin behind his wise eyes. “Well then, you better get up to the palace to greet them, as it seems you are lost to me today.”

“Do you mean it? You don’t mind?”

“Go child.”

Rey threw her arms around him before her mind could warn her against it. The Jedi did not believe in physical contact. Master Kenobi flinched under her embrace. She retreated at once, cheeks burning. “Sorry…I’ll—I’ll just go. Thank you.”

She waved once more and scurried out of the temple. She ran across the sandy plains to the waiting gates of Jedha set into the city’s impenetrable walls. The city streets were wild with activity.

The shops and stalls beneath the colorful awnings which lined either side of the Agora were alive with crowds and the noise of city life. It wasn’t a narrow street but the size of the crowd made it so. At each stall, shoppers haggled and vendors shouted about sales on bread and oils. Rey elbowed and shoved her way through the crowds, making it to the palace road with only a few minor bodily collisions.

Up the marble paved road, the palace was equally chaotic. The scouts had already brought the news of the fleet’s return and preparations were underway to welcome the Princess and her family home. Rey decided to stay out of the servants’ way. She took up a post just inside the double doors where she waited, agonizing each second until their arrival.

It took them far too long. Rey had nearly worn a hole in the floor with her pacing by the time the towering double doors parted. First to enter was the petite princess, her grey streaked brown hair plaited and piled atop her head.

“Leia!” Rey ran forward, this time not hesitating before enveloping the shorter woman in a hug. Leia giggled and hugged her back.

“Easy there, kid. You’ll suffocate her.” Came a gruff male voice.

“Han!” Rey greeted her surrogate father in kind.

“Look at you, Rey.” Leia stepped back to admire Rey’s pristine white robes. “An acolyte of the light. Have we really been gone so long?”

“I bet there are more than a few heartbroken men in the city,” said Han, ruffling Rey’s hair.

Another male voice spoke, “I know there’s at least one.”

“Poe!” Rey tackled her foster brother to the ground, peppering his tan face with kisses. 

Poe chuckled and accepted a hand up when Rey finally released him. “We missed you too, Peanut.”

“Did you bring me anything? Pearls from Moraband?”

“Well…” Poe glanced nervously at the Princess. “Not pearls exactly.”

Rey felt the tension that suddenly sprang up between the group. She studied Poe. His head was slightly bowed, his face repentant—a look she couldn’t ever recall seeing on him before. He was the greatest warrior in their city—some said in _any_ city. He was usually all smiles and bravado. This new shade of him unsettled her from surface to core.

Poe stepped to the side and Rey took in the sight of a second young man, around their age. His dark skin was foreign to their shores. He was handsome, like Poe, though less fierce somehow. 

“May I present…Finn of Moraband,” said Poe.

“Finn of Jedha.” Leia corrected with that tone of hers that left no room for argument.

Finn. That was a name that Rey _did_ know. High King Snoke had a ward named Finn, one who was rumored to be a very good archer and a strategist to boot.

“Nice to meet you Finn of Jedha.” Ray gave a polite curtsey. She couldn’t take her eyes off Poe and the guilt etched on his handsome face. There was one hell of a story behind this and she was desperate to hear it.

“Well, now that we are all acquainted, I’m going to lie down,” said Leia. “I’ve had nothing but those gods forsaken cots on the Falcon for a month. I crave a real bed.”

She and Han excused themselves. Poe mumbled something about showing Finn to their quarters. They’d slipped away but Rey followed at their heels, making it known that Poe was not getting off that easily and that she demanded a full explanation, full of details and voice acting—costumes if possible. She did love a good show.

* * *

The metallic clang of steel echoed across the ruins. Phasma smiled as she approached. Her smile widened at the panting breath, the scuffling of sandaled feet—the sounds of battle—sounds she knew well.

She came up over the rise and stood amidst the half walls in what had once been the grand ballroom of a palace long since forgotten. Kylo Ren towered in the center of the cracked stone foundation. His dark hair whipped about his face. His broad shoulders were hunched, as his right hand clutched the hilt of an iron sword. His slitted dark eyes scanned the ruins. He cut a terrifying silhouette, even for Phasma who liked to think of him as a friend.

She’d never seen anything like him. The way his body moved through the air when he fought was poetry written in sword thrusts, rolls and leaps.

He was the best warrior of his generation.

PolemistÍs tis Nýchtas—Warrior of the Night.

Some said he was a God—immortal—unkillable.

Phasma hoped for the sake of the Jedhan War that it was true. She had a home and wife waiting for her back in Illum.

Kylo’s head whipped to the left. In one smooth motion he crouched, scooped up a spear and hurled it through the air. The spear disappeared through a hole that must have once been a window. A squeal came from behind the wall.

Hux emerged into the clearing, a spear poking out of his breastplate, near the shoulder. It hadn’t been hard enough to pierce the bronze, only enough to dent it and give the rosy haired man a start.

“Oy, that’s cheating,” Hux complained as he yanked the spear out.

Kylo arched one dark brow. “There are no rules in real warfare. You’ll live longer if you embrace that.”

Phasma chuckled, alerting them to her presence. “Not turning into a philosopher on us are you, Ren?”

Kylo sneered in offense. “Just trying to keep this one alive a bit longer. I tried to convince him to sit this war out but the stubborn bastard challenged me to a duel instead.”

“You’re both going then? To Jedha?” She watched the warlord’s face closely, noting the way he flinched at the words. She was one of the few people who knew his true heritage—his true name. She’d wondered from the minute Snoke declared war what Kylo’s thoughts on the matter would be. How much would it cost him to go to war against his own people? Against his own family? How far would he go for glory?

Hux grinned and slapped the larger man on the shoulder, “You think we’re going to miss a chance at the richest city in the world? Of course we’re going! I’m going to make my fortune then live out my days on the beaches of Scarif.”

“You won’t object if I sail with you then?” Phasma said.

“The Knights of Ren are already making preparations,” said Kylo, “We sail at dawn. We would be honored to have you with us.” He examined the head of his spear, testing the sharpness of the point with his index finger. “If anything should happen to me…I want the two of you to take command of the Knights.”

Hux laughed, “As if anything could hurt you. Warrior of the Night.”

Something dark passed over Kylo’s aquiline features. “Just swear it.”

“Alright, no need to get emotional,” said Hux. 

* * *

The next morning found Kylo Ren, PolemistÍs tis Nýchta, Warrior of the Night, at the helm of his finest warship flanked on either side by Queen Phasma of Illum and Hux, his childhood companion and closest confidant. 

Their ship, though admittedly grand, was dwarfed by the sheer might of High King Snoke’s amassed fleet. 1200 ships sailed in formation across the Agean. Hundreds of thousands of men on a fool’s errand to reclaim Finn.

Kylo knew it went deeper than that. No one man was worth all this.

Snoke had his eye on Jedha.

Finn or no Finn, this war wouldn’t end until Jedha lie in ashes and Lost City was under Snoke’s control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know if you like this so far...if there's anything you don't like. I'm sorry the chapters have been short thus far. I am just getting through the set up. I wanted to get Kylo and Rey in the same room as quick as possible so the story can begin. Thanks!


	4. Deference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will not always be updated so crazy fast...I just wanted to edit and post what I have written so far to get it out of the way. I'm not the type that hordes chapters. I just post em as I write em.

“His descent was like nightfall.” 

― **Homer** , **The Iliad**

 

**Ch 3:**

**Deference**

 

Rey’s hazel eyes bounced back and forth from Poe to Finn and back again. “So, let me get this straight…you smuggled him onto the Falcon in the dead of night without Snoke’s knowledge or permission…and Leia let you both live to tell about it?” She flopped back onto the tasseled cushions arranged on the tile of Poe’s balcony overlooking the rose gardens. “I always miss the good stuff.”

A sense of calm washed over her. How many endless nights had been spent this way? Lying on the silk cushions, staring up at the stars, laying bare her innermost thoughts to her adoptive brother. Now, there was three of them. Rey had always known that one day she’d have to share Poe…the day had come quicker than expected but she already liked Finn. He was the calm to Poe’s storm.

“Leia _would’ve_ killed us…but we brought an insurance policy.” Said Poe, absently rubbing his cheek.

“Which was?” Rey pushed up onto her elbows to look at them.

“Snoke had a map to Lost City,” said Finn. “One of Jedah’s Captains was captured a few months back and Snoke tortured it out of him. I found out about it in passing. Didn’t think much of it until the Summit.”

Rey’s face turned serious. “Gods…what was he planning to do with it?”

Neither answered. They didn’t need to. He was planning to conquer Lost City and probably Jedha too.

“I guess we should be thanking you then, Finn. It was brave of you, leaving like that.”

“I like to think my abs played a small role in it.” Said Poe lounging theatrically against his own cushions.

Finn blushed and Rey felt her own cheeks grow hot. “Watch your tongue, Champion. I’m a priestess now.” Rey tossed a grape at Poe’s forehead. He tilted his head just in time to catch it in his mouth which warped into a salacious grin.

Poe waggled his dark brows as he chewed the grape. “How you chose a life of celibacy, I will never know. I blame inexperience. If you knew what you were missing you wouldn’t be so quick to give it up.”

“Why did you choose the Jedi Order? If you don’t mind my asking,” said Finn.

Rey picked at the hem of her white robes. “I can’t explain it really. I’ve always felt this pull to honor the gods and serve them. I never had a family…until I came here, of course. All I ever had was myself. No one to talk to. No physical contact of any kind. Growing up without that…I knew it was something I wouldn’t miss if I took the oath. The love of the Gods is enough for me. It is more than I had as a child.”

“That is the most depressing thing I have ever heard,” said Finn, only half teasing.

Poe tossed another grape into his mouth. “I think that you just haven’t found the right man yet. There’s no shame in changing your mind you know?”

“Well, I’ve seen all that Jedha has to offer and I can confidently say…no, thank-you.”

“Can’t say I don’t agree with you there,” Poe smiled fondly at Finn, interlacing their fingers together. “I had to cross the world to find this one.”

“So, when is the wedding?” Rey asked, catching both men off guard. Their eyes widened.

Poe started to say that they hadn’t exactly discussed it but his words were cut off by the sound of a dozen drums, thundering down from the watchtowers. Their heads snapped in unison toward the city beyond the balcony.

“What does it mean?” Rey asked, knowing Poe would understand the coded message in the beating drums.

“Invaders.” He said gravely.

* * *

Kylo sat crosslegged on the deck of the _Finalizer_. His iron sword lay across his lap. He moved an oiled cloth methodically back and forth across the metal, polishing until he could see his own reflection…and what a reflection it was.

When he caught sight of his dark eyes he saw only death and ruin staring back. Men would sing of his deeds, of his wrath for the rest of time. It was all anyone would remember of Kylo of Ren when he was gone. The man beneath the armor—Ben—would be forgotten to the vortex of time.

The warlord could sense Hux lurking near by, probably worrying his lip between his teeth, desperate to come offer words of consolation. But Kylo wanted none of his coddling. Not today. He’d always known this was his destiny. He’d been waiting for it. Training for it. Envisioning it. Now, destiny had come to claim him and he was ready.

He would face his fate without trepidation.

Jedha came into view on the horizon. They would touch down on the sandy beaches by dawn if the winds held up. A cold breeze blustered by but only his sails seemed to catch it. His ship inched just ahead of the other ships around them, as if the gods themselves were pushing him closer to his fate.

Gods but the sight of his birthplace made him sick. He told himself he was above guilt. He’d done as the gods commanded him to do and in exchange they’d made him a demigod—a warlord who would make the world shudder.

But he was _not_ above guilt.

Seeing the beach where he’d learned to run and swim as a boy made his heart ache. He allowed himself a moment of nostalgia, watching a hawk swoop against the moonlight before touching down in the sand. The hawk had something clutched in its talons—a fish of some sort. The hawk released it, letting the fish flop about on the sand before promptly jabbing its beak into its flesh over and over until the flopping stopped and the sand was stained with blood.

This was no homecoming. This was a reckoning. He couldn’t afford to forget that.

Kylo looked around at his men. His Knights of Ren were the fiercest he could find. Other soldiers would kill to be invited into his inner fold. But that honor had to be bought and paid for in blood.

The rest of Snoke’s armies knew this. Kings from the other kingdoms throughout Greece had sailed to Moraband to rally behind Snoke—each of them with their own ulterior motives. As they’d prepared their ships, Kylo had walked amongst the foreign troops. Whispers followed his every step. _Is he really a god? Is he the true Warrior of the Night?_

Damn right he was…and he’d prove it to them here and now. If this was to be his final cry into the night—it would be a vicious one. Kylo wouldn’t let Jedha come to him. He would dive out and claim his birthright.

He stood and leapt up onto a crate so that he towered over the men scurrying about the deck. He thrust his sword in the air. “Knights of Ren!” He bellowed, “Brothers! Look there—“ He pointed the blade toward Jedha as many sets of eyes stopped their tasks to focus on him. He even saw some of the sailors on the nearby vessels turn to watch the scene unfolding on the _Finalizer._ “Jedha waits and it promises riches beyond our imaginings. You ask if I am a God—the answer is yes, because I choose to be. Immortality waits for all of us on the enemy’s shores…it is up to each of you to take it!” The crowd cheered. Kylo felt adrenaline, his constant companion in this life flooding his veins. “Take up the oars and row, brothers! Make the Knights of Ren first to meet the shores! Immortality waits for no man—we must chase it down and capture it!”

A hundred oars emerged from portholes and the _Finalizer_ quickly began to pull ahead of the rest of the fleet. He saw Snoke watching from his own ship, his ancient face an unreadable mask. Kylo gave a theatrical bow to the King of Kings from his perch on the crate. Snoke turned away.

“Well, that was—theatrical,” said Phasma as Kylo hopped down and strode toward the bow to watch Jedha’s shore come into focus.

“You think history remembers boring old hags like you?” He teased. “You have to put on a show. Light a fire beneath those rumors.”

“I don’t know. Who can say who will survive the holocaust of memory? I think I shall be famous in my own right…perhaps more-so even than you,” she said.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Hux, who’d had a few already judging by the way he swayed on his feet.

* * *

Poe set about strapping on his armor from the stand. Breastplate, grieves, helmet. Finn was pacing the room, unsure how to be helpful. Rey could not tear her eyes from the horizon. Had she really been foolish enough to hope that Snoke would let Finn go without a fight? It seemed so much trouble to cross an ocean for one man. Yet, here they were…and the drums beat on.

She knew she should be angry with Poe for inviting the enemy to their shores…but she just couldn’t find it in her. He was in love. Was it so wrong that two people in love should fight to be together—no matter the cost?

The romantic girl in her said no, it was not wrong.

But the pragmatic woman in her, the woman who had survived slavery only to rise above it said yes, it was wrong.

Love was not worth this.

The happiness of two people—even of her foster brother whom she loved more dearly than any who walked the earth—was not worth the lives of millions.

She hadn’t heard Leia storm in, but there she and a fully-armored Han stood, conferring with Poe and Finn.

“I’m not helpless. I will fight with you,” Finn insisted. “Why do you think Snoke kept me so close. I am one of his best archers.”

“No,” said Leia, arms folded across her chest, “You are too valuable to die in a petty skirmish. If we have any hope of ending this war—it rides on your continued survival.”

Finn was about to argue but he was silenced by Han. “I hate to say it because we could use all the warriors we can get…but the Princess is right. Snoke will want you alive.”

“You are not ransoming my—my—Finn,” Poe shouted.

“Who said anything about ransom?” Said Han.

“I know what you’re thinking and I’ll not agree to it,” said Poe.

Leia frowned at both of them. “Enough! Finn is staying in the palace. Poe and Han will ride out and lead the counter-attacks. I will send an emissary to my brother. We will need him back before this war breaks out in full. Any questions?” She waited. No one spoke. “Good. Now move!”

The group seemed to have forgotten Rey. They dispersed to carry out the princess’s orders without so much as a goodbye. Rey didn’t mind. She had her own plans.

It was easy enough to slip out of the palace in the chaos. The city was a bit more difficult to navigate but she managed. Soon, she was out of breath and stumbling up the hill to the Sun God’s temple just as the sun appeared above the horizon.

“Master Kenobi!” Her voice echoed off the austere stone walls.

The elderly priest emerged from a side room, eyes bloodshot, white hair askew. “What is it child?”

“The Achaeans have come. We must leave the temple. You have to get inside the walls of the city.”

Master Kenobi’s brows pressed together. “Why have they come here?”

“For war,” she said, not caring to elaborate considering the current circumstances.

He said nothing. Instead, he tottered over to the altar and set about lighting candles.

“What are you doing?” Rey asked. “Did you not hear me? We have to leave.”

“The Greeks will not desecrate a holy place. We are safe here. Come help me, child. We must ask for the Sun God’s blessings in this coming war.”

Rey grit her teeth but nodded. What he said was true. Any man who would harm a priest on hallowed ground was an abomination that Rey didn’t believe could exist. All the same, she made sure that her bow staff was in arm’s reach as she set about lighting candles and chanting with her master.

* * *

They reached the beaches as the first Greek ships touched down. Armored men oozed out of the hull like swarms of ants. They cut across the beach at a run, spears, swords and arrows at the ready.

Han and Poe each led their own legions into the fray. Poe’s forces charged to the beaches while Han’s stayed on the perimeter, firing arrows and catapulting fireballs at the advancing troops.

The first wave of Greeks broke through the front lines. Han watched a small group in dark armor with crescent moons painted on their helmets, headed up toward the Sun God’s temple at the top of the hill overlooking the beach. Rey’s temple. Thank the gods she was safe in the palace.

Han tugged at the reins and his chariot charged up toward the temple. Others might’ve been comforted by the belief that no man would harm a priest in their sacred place…but Han had spent the better part of his life as a pirate. He knew the darker side of humanity—the side brought out by war and greed. He saw it in the eyes of each Greek he struck down as he charged the hill. The madness. The bloodlust. He would never reach the temple in time.

Then, he stopped. All thoughts of the temple lost to sheer awe as he watched a beast of a man charging toward the temple. The man’s fair skin shone in the early dawn, in sharp contrast to his dark bronze armor. His legs, visible beneath the short tunic of his armor were cut from marble, impossibly strong. He watched as the man threw a spear at a Jedhan at least thirty kilometers off. It whizzed through the air finding purchase in the Jedhan soldier’s eye socket. It was an impossible throw—and yet Han had just watched it with his own eyes. 

He knew then, without needing to be told that this was the Warrior of the Night—Kylo Ren. Word of his conquests in battle had reached across the world, even as far as Jedha.

Han followed the demigod into the temple, his battle plans overtaken by curiosity. His sense returned to him as he entered the temple. Crumpled bodies littered the floor, their white robes stained red. Statues were toppled over, some broken and defaced. The men who’d stormed the temple had already stripped it of its riches and disappeared.

A wheezing sound came from the base of the altar. Han rushed over. He hunched over Master Kenobi’s crumpled body. Blood pooled on the priest’s lips and his eyes focused on some other plane as he drew his last breaths. The priest was muttering something over and over.

Han had to lean his ear close to make out the words…or rather the word, just one—Rey. Han would’ve sworn that his heart stopped beating. Rey had been here. Where was she? Was she alive? He stood up, nearly tripping over something lying in the isle…a bow staff. Han picked it up in trembling fingers. No. Why would she have come here? The answer formed before he even finished thinking the question. She came to save her fellow priests…because that’s who she was.

He’d have fallen to his knees and wept right there amidst the battle if not for the deep voice that cut through the temple.

“You must be Han of the less-than-noble gens Solo.” 

Han looked up in time to see a dark figure sweep out the back door.

Han found him on the portico, perched atop a marble plinth that had once displayed a statue of Apollo. Kylo Ren was staring out at the battle, exuding an air of cold satisfaction.

Han drew his sword, “Fight me.”

“It is too early in the day for killing royals,” said the warlord without turning his eyes from the carnage.

“These priests were unarmed. It sacrilege. Do you care so little for the Gods? Apollo won’t stand for this. He is the patron god of Jedha, of the Light. He will protect us from you.”

“Where is he then? Why has he not struck me down?”

For that Han had no argument. He believed in the gods only as much as was required of the husband of a royal. He’d personally never seen them, despite his wife’s _familiarity_ with them.

 Kylo jumped from the plinth and stalked like a giant panther toward Han. “It was my men who killed your priests…I, personally, have not done anything to anger your patron…so don’t hold your breath waiting for him to dispense justice.”

“There was a priestess—a young girl—she was not amongst the dead. Where is she?”

“Do I look like I keep tabs on sniveling virgins?”

“Why did you come to Jedha? You’re not here for Finn.”

A gruff laugh that was akin to the sound of chains rattling came from the warlord. “None of us are here for Finn.” He turned away from Han, not even concerned that the Jedhan might attack. “Go home to your Princess. Come back when you are prepared to fight me.”

Han hesitated, genuinely torn between fleeing and striking from behind. There was no honor in either option…but there was more troubling him than honor alone. There was something familiar about Kylo Ren. His face was obscured by the helmet so he couldn’t see anything of his features save for his lips and chin…still, it was in the way he carried himself, the tone of his voice. Something stirred in Han. Something long forgotten.

He ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you catch the Miller quote in there.


	5. Spoils of War

“Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause. ” 

― **Homer** , **The Iliad**

 

**Ch 4:**

**Spoils of War**

 

“What do you mean Rey’s gone?” Poe stood in the palace war room, surrounded by the high council of Jedha. They’d searched the entire city. Rey was gone. It was an unavoidable reality at this point…but his mind could not accept it. “She wouldn’t have gone out there. She’s smarter than that.”

“From what we can tell, she was taken from the temple. She went to warn the priests.” Said Han. The prince consort’s eyes were on the bow staff resting in Leia’s lap. The princess skimmed her fingers reverently over the polished wood, eyes distant.

“So, we go get her back,” said Poe. 

Leia lifted her gaze to her adoptive son. “Poe, think. We need a general right now…not a grieving brother. The Achaeans outnumber us…and they have Kylo Ren.”

“We have Poe!” Several of the Princess’s aging advisors shouted from their chairs arranged around the dais. “There is no warrior better than ours.”

Antenor, one of the court’s chief advisors rose to his feet. “I saw a hawk with a salmon clutched in its talons this morning. It was a sign. The Gods favor our cause. Han said that the Greek’s desecrated the temple…killed Apollo’s priests. The Sun God is angry!”

Poe glared at the old man. Earlier he’d suggested that Finn simply surrender himself and that this act would solve all of their problems. Thus, Poe’s opinion of Antenor was irreparably damaged. “So what do your bird signs suggest we do? Other than surrender Finn, which we have already agreed is not an option.”

“We attack at dawn.” The advisor replied. “Take our forces and drive the Greeks from our beaches.”

“That’s suicide,” Poe insisted. “Just let me take a few men, we can slip into the camp while they are asleep and get Rey back. As for the rest…we need to wait and see what the Greek will do.”

“You don’t even know where Rey is. You’ll be caught before you can find her.” Said Han.

Poe clutched his dark hair between his fingers and growled in frustration. As the arguments continued, he stalked back toward his chair…but he stopped short because the chair beside his was empty. Finn was gone.

Poe fled the war room not bothering to see if anyone noticed or cared. He knew where Finn was going. The only question was, would he reach him in time?

The champion of Jedha was at the top of a grand stone staircase that led down to the outer Bailey of the palace when he saw the dark cloaked figure fleeing toward the gates.

“Stop!” Poe yelled. The figure froze. Poe took the stairs two at a time, stumbling forward until he was looking Finn in the eye. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s the only way to end this. Too many men have died for me already.”

Poe cupped Finn’s cheek, smiling at the warmth of his smooth skin, “I love that you want to sacrifice yourself for us…but it won’t make a difference. Do you really think Snoke will change his mind if you come back? That he will just gather up his thousand ships and say, _nevermind, back to Greece_? This war is bigger than you or me or what we did. It was going to happen regardless. He wants Lost City and he wants to see Jedha in ruin. It was never about you.”

Finn had slowly unraveled during Poe’s speech and now pulled Poe into an embrace, fingers clutched into the fabric of his tunic. “I’m so sorry. For everything. So many people are going to die.”

“I know,” said Poe. “But we will get through it together—I am worried about Rey, though. We have to get her back. I don’t even want to imagine what will happen to her—what might’ve already happened…”

“Agreed,” Finn nodded, pulling back slightly. “We will find a way.”

“No more talk of surrender?” Poe asked.

“None.”

Poe nodded and hand in hand they turned and went back to the war room, back to the endless back and forth between old men who were too comfortable behind their high walls.

* * *

Kylo stalked into High King Snoke’s ship which was beached and serving now as his headquarters. During the bloodshed, the non-soldiers—attendants, stewards and the like, had began to set up a camp on the beaches. They pulled the ships onto the sand, put up tents, set up a makeshift agora. It was amazing how quickly the Greeks took ownership of the sand.

While the beach was being retrofitted into Greek city, the Kings and Warlords gathered in Snoke’s makeshift throne room to celebrate their first victory.

Kylo stood to the left of the dais where Snoke sat on a throne—of course he’d found room to bring a throne with him from Greece. Kylo rolled his eyes at the pomp of it all. Every inch of the warrior’s skin was coated in a grotesque blend of blood, sweat, and sand and his veins thrummed with energy. It was always that way after a fight. It would be hours before he could sit still or find any sort of calm. He never felt more alive than he did in those moments when he walked off a battlefield—sword still in hand, head held high.

He longed for a bath, a meal and possibly a woman to relieve some of this tension…but he was forced to be here, listening to men groveling over Snoke’s victory—though, it wasn’t Snoke’s at all. He’d been here, in his ship, during the battle, watching from a safe distance.

Phasma stood beside Kylo, equally filthy and bleeding from a shallow cut on her bicep. Hux wasn’t in the throne room—he wasn’t a King or leader in his own right so, he was out celebrating with the mass of soldiers on the beach. Kylo wished he were there instead of here.

White haired Nestor, one of the oldest Kings bowed at Snoke’s feet and kissed his ringed hands. “An inspiring victory my liege.”

Snoke clapped his hands and said, “It is time to divide the spoils.” An attendant came from a door behind the throne, dragging a young girl by her wrists which were bound with rope. Her robes were filthy, but even Kylo could see that they were those of a priestess.

The attendant stopped with the girl in front of the towering pile of gold and gems that had been amassed from the looting of the temple.

Snoke began another droning speech, but Kylo heard none of it. He was watching the girl, curious beyond measure. It was the way she held her nose in the air, even now with her robes in tatters, face bruised and bloodied and her wrists bound. She refused to be cowed…Kylo found it admirable.

“You should take her,” Phasma said in his ear. He turned to the Queen of Illum who was smirking—she was always smirking. She had a smirk for a face. It was because she always knew more than she should.

“Why would I do that?” Asked Kylo.

“Because you know what will happen to her if she stays here. Claim her as your war prize.”

Kylo looked back to the girl. He didn’t care what happened to her one way or the other. What would he do with a slave girl? This was a war…he had no use for chattle.

The girl’s wide hazel eyes found him. It wasn’t a look of recognition. If she knew he was the Warrior of the Night, she didn’t show it. No…what he saw in her eyes was pity. As if she thought herself better than this. Better than him.

Kylo could not abide pity.

Let her hate him…but never pity.

He hadn’t even realized he was speaking until her dark eyebrows creased and her expression changed to one of confusion. “King of Kings, as I am your best warlord, it is customary that I should have first choice of my war prize.”

Phasma chuckled softly. Kylo fought the urge to stomp on her meddling foot.

Snoke was wearing a smirk of his own—though on him it was a violent gash that split his face in two. “Go on then, son of the gods, what would you have as your prize?”

“The girl.”

The silence that followed was only broken by the hushed murmurs passing from one King to another in the crowded ship cabin.

Snoke’s eye moved over the priestess inch by inch, as if he was searching for an explanation. “Very well,” he said, “Have her. It’s a shame though—I hate to lose such a pretty thing.”

“Thank-you, King of Kings.” Kylo caught sight of a face he’d been otherwise ignoring. Bazine of Netal was standing in the shadows behind the throne. If her eyes had been blades they’d have shredded the girl into a thousand pieces.

Kylo wanted no more of any of this. He stalked over to his prize and took her ropes from the attendant. He bowed his head in deference to the high king and yanked the girl out of the room.

When they were outside the ship he dropped her rope and said, “Come, Priestess.” He walked but stopped after a few strides when he realized she was not following. He gave a frustrated growl and stalked back to her.

He scooped her up in his arms, tossing her over one shoulder before he resumed the journey through the throngs of now drunk soldiers toward his section of the camp.

She squealed and commenced kicking and scratching at any part of him she could reach. “Put me down you barbarian! I can walk!”

“Obviously, you can’t. I gave you that option and you refused it.”

“You’ll never keep me here. I’ll run the minute your back is turned.”

“Not if I keep you tied up.”

He received several whistles and catcalls from the men as he passed with the girl slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour. She had some very colorful responses to that—responses which better suited a sailor than a priestess.

They reached his tent on the outskirts of the camp, near the line of trees that marked the transition from beach to forest. Hux and Phasma had their own tents nearby. Two of his knights stood guarding the entrance to his tent. Kylo waved them off and went inside.

He deposited the girl on the ground near one of the tent poles—a fifteen foot tree trunk at least a foot in diameter. He split the ropes binding her wrists with a dagger and yanked her arms behind her to wrap around the tree trunk. He retied her wrists and abandoned her for his basin of water.

Her back slid down the trunk until her ass, which was rather perky—not that he’d noticed—hit the rug covered dirt floor. He watched her as he stripped off the filthy grieves from his calves, then the bracers on his forearms, his breastplate. He found himself grinning at the pink tinge to her cheeks that grew with each article of clothing he removed. “What’s your name?”

Her eyes narrowed and she spat on the dirt. Fine, he thought, if she was going to be a stubborn cow he’d play along. He reached for the straps holding on his leather tunic, the last thing covering his naked body at this point. Eyes locked with hers he pulled the strap and yanked the tunic over his head leaving every proud bit of his body on display. He crumpled the leather tunic in his hands and tossed at her then set about sponging the blood off his body.

At some point she turned her eyes to him. He could feel her curious gaze so he dipped his hand to splash water on his cock—which was already half hard from this little game. The girl squeaked and looked away.

He had to grin at that—wasn’t every day he got to strip nude in front of a virgin priestess. He couldn’t resist having a little fun. 

When he was passably clean, he tied a long skirt around his hips covering his offending manhood and prowled over to her. “You’re royalty, aren’t you? The way you peer down your nose at men and kings alike.” He grabbed a handful of her chestnut hair and inhaled the faint scent of jasmine and lye. “You must be royalty.” He rose and came to crouch before her where he could get a better look at her face.

She had a split lip and a large purple bruise covering her left cheek, but beneath that Kylo saw a pert nose, a light dusting of freckles, shapely lips, large hazel eyes…and he let himself admit that she was attractive. “Do you have a name?”

She clucked her tongue, “Do I have one? Everyone has a name.”

“And what is yours?”

“You killed Apollo’s priests. They were my friends.”

“I’ve killed a lot of men,” he said by way of response. He could’ve pointed out that his men killed them and that he’d had no part in that…but what did it matter? He was killer in her eyes whether he’d killed the priests or not.

Her next question caught him off-guard. “Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“The Sun God. The light.”

“Apollo? Why would I be afraid of him? Here you are, his acolyte, my prisoner, his temple lies in ruin—and yet, I am unharmed. Where is he? Why has he not struck me down? What’s he waiting for?”

“The right time to strike.”

Kylo laughed at that. “If you’d seen the gods, as I have, you wouldn’t revere them so. What is your name?”

Through narrowed eyes she said, “Rey.”

“How fitting.”

“Why did you claim me?”

He shrugged, “Maybe I wanted a servant. Men get lonely in war.”

She swallowed hard but the defiant fire never left her eyes even as they dropped to his covered lap and back to his face. “Don’t you have a name?”

“I have many…but you may call me Kylo.”

Now, the recognition sparked. It was a look he’d grown used to any time his name was uttered. There was a small trace of awe in her hazel eyes and a part of him swelled with pride at that.

“They say you’re immortal—is it true?”

He tilted his head, “What do you think?”

“I think you are nothing but flesh and bone—a man—just like all the others.”

The pride vanished. He sneered at her. She seemed satisfied that she’d struck a cord. “I am nothing like the others. Don’t you ever imply anything like that again.” He rose and went to the corner of the tent where furs and cushions had been piled to form a sort of sitting area. His men had left a bowl of grapes and cheeses there for him. He hungrily ate, ignoring the girl.

“Why did you come to Jedha?” Rey’s voice was quieter this time, a bit timid. “You’re not here for Finn.”

“No. I’m not here for Finn.” He went back to her, crouching before her once more, still holding a bunch of grapes. “I’m here for the same reason all men go to war. I want what all warriors want…I just want it more.”

“You won’t find it here. My brother will defeat you. He is the best warrior in the world. Better than you.”

“We’ll see, Priestess,” Kylo said. His mind reeled at the new information. Brother. Poe was her brother. Which meant Han and Leia had adopted her as well. What little interest he had in her was gone—this girl was a piece of _them._ A piece of his family and, in turn, his past. He wanted no reminders of that.

His only consolation was that they would be missing her. By keeping her, he was causing them distress and that was enough for now. 

* * *

Rey watched him move about the tent. He was like a giant cat, lithe and graceful but deadly. Why had she said that about Poe? She had wanted to anger him…and that was probably the stupidest thing she could’ve done in the situation. She just wanted to gain back some ground after he’d teased her so.

This warrior held her life in his hands. If anything she should be playing along, gaining his trust so that she might find a window of escape.

Instead she’d let her temper rule her—as the Jedi priests were always scolding her for—and she’d antagonized him… _him…_ Kylo Ren, a demigod, a killer.

Poe was right, she did have a death wish.

“You don’t have to fear me, Priestess.”

She almost laughed at that. If she didn’t have to fear him, who should she fear?

He’d left then. A man had come and told him he was needed for something and he’d just left her there, tied to the tent pole. She scanned everything around her, there had to be something she could use…but there wasn’t. However, she found that the ropes weren’t as tight as they could’ve been. She slowly worked her wrists against the rough fibers and they eased.

It took nearly twenty minutes but she managed to get her hands free. She scrambled to her feet, eyes landing immediately on a spear in a basket that held several other weapons. She took a dagger and shoved it in the tie of her sandal, then grabbed the spear—it wasn’t as sturdy as her staff—but it would have to do.

Footsteps scuffled in the sand at the tent’s entrance. Damn. She pressed herself against the tent wall beside the entrance flaps and the moment the body emerged she swung the spear, clocking the man on the nose. It broke with an audible crunch.

It wasn’t Kylo Ren.

A red haired man’s hands flew to his now bleeding and broken nose. “Bloody Hell!” His eyes found her but she didn’t stay to see what he would do. With him worried about his nose, she slipped out the tent’s entrance and ran bodily into the iron wall that was Kylo Ren’s chest. The force of it sent her into the air and slammed her onto her back in the sand.

It knocked the wind from her lungs, too. But she didn’t have time to worry about that. She drew the dagger from her calf and pointed it at the dark warrior. “Stay back.”

He was smiling at her. The bastard. Rey was also vaguely aware of a female’s laughter nearby…as well as the red haired man moaning in pain.

Kylo looked up as the red haired man emerged from the tent. His smile turned into laughter. “Hux, please tell me you weren’t injured by this slip of a girl.”

“She’s stronger than she looks,” he complained.

“Rey,” Kylo looked down at her, “put that dagger down before you hurt yourself. Do you even know how to use that thing?”

Truthfully, no, she didn’t. Her staff was the only weapon King Luke had ever let her near—despite her complaints. He didn’t think it proper for a girl to train with more violent weapons. While Poe got swords and spears and arrows…she got a staff and lessons on mediation.

Kylo plucked the dagger away with his experienced hands. Then, he plucked her from the sand and carried her back into the tent. Hux followed, along with the laughing woman—a tall blonde who looked deadly as any man Rey had ever seen.

“She broke my nose,” Hux repeated for the third time. At this point, he sounded more surprised than anything.

“Blame Phasma. It was her idea to keep her.” Kylo gave a vague wave to the blonde.

“It was _your_ idea…I merely nudged you in the right direction.” Phasma turned to look at Rey, who had taken to trying to fit her body into the space between two large barrels of wine. “You’re very brave, you know. Most wouldn’t even attempt an escape like that.”

“A word of advice, though,” said Kylo. “You are far safer in here than you are out there. Those men would rape you, kill you, and throw your body to the sharks.”

“Nice imagery,” Hux rolled his eyes and sat on a cushion with his head tilted back to staunch the blood flowing from his nose.

“It’s true,” said Kylo.

Phasma sat beside Hux, still watching Rey with open curiosity. Rey didn’t like her eyes. They reminded her of Luke’s—always seeing, learning, evaluating. “Are you royalty?”

Kylo answered. “She’s Leia’s adopted daughter…am I right?”

Rey nodded.

Phasma’s wry smile widened. “Well, that’s an unexpected turn of events. How nice for you—“

“—Finish that sentence and I’ll cut out your tongue,” said Kylo. Rey thought he sounded mostly serious.

What had she meant by that? Rey studied her dark haired captor with renewed curiosity. What did the gods see in him? Why had they made him their champion?

She knew that there were benevolent gods…and others who were less upstanding. Light and dark. Rey had chosen to serve the Sun God Apollo for many reasons. He was the patron of Jedha for one thing…but also he was the light. He represented all things good in the world, all the things she valued.

Kylo Ren was none of those things.

The conversation continued. Rey watched the three of them interact. It reminded her of Poe. These three were obviously close. They had started drinking at some point, even offered her some which she refused.

They talked about the other kings. About Snoke. Bazine. The war. Then, Phasma said she was tired. She cast a knowing smirk at Rey and bid them all goodnight. The blonde woman bodily pulled Hux out of the tent after her, leaving Rey and Kylo alone once more.

Kylo stood and stretched his towering body. “I’m going to sleep. Do I need to tie you up or can I trust you not to try to escape again?”

“Do you seriously want me to answer that question?” Said Rey.

Kylo shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll tie you up…I just thought you’d be more comfortable without the ropes.” He scooped up the bindings from before and crooked a finger in the air, beckoning her to come resume her position against the tent pole.

She walked toward him. “You are a strange man,” She said as he tied her hands around the pole.

“It’s a matter of perspective.”

Her eyes tracked his movements as he went around the tent blowing out candles, leaving just enough light that he could keep an eye on her. Then, he untied the wrap around his waist, letting it fall carelessly to the ground.

She couldn’t look away—if she did, he would know that he’d won. So, Rey forced her eyes to remain on his face, forced her mind to ignore all the skin and muscles, and scars on display for her now. He was smirking—enjoying baiting her like this. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was unnerving her. She’d gotten an eyeful once already. Even if she bathed in the temple holy water for a year she wasn’t sure she’d ever be clean again.

Kylo climbed onto the huge fur covered bed and threw a thin blanket over his lower half. “There, all covered up, Priestess.”

“You’re a barbarian.”

He chuckled.


	6. Honor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the outpouring of support for this story! It means a lot to know people are reading and enjoying. Love you all!!

“Yet still the heart in me swells up in anger, when I remember

the disgrace that he wrought upon me before the Argives,

the son of Atreus, as if I were some dishonoured vagabond.” 

― **Homer** , **The Iliad**

 

**Ch 5:**

**Honor**

 

It was early morning, not even quite dawn, when Rey was awoken by the sounds of Kylo rustling about the tent. He wasn’t in his armor this morning but instead a deep blue tunic and sandals that that laced up his calves. His black hair, as always, made her swoon with envy. She didn’t want to imagine what she looked like, dirt and leaves in her hair, blood crusted on her face.

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep—hadn’t even thought it was possible whilst tied upright to a pole…and Gods her body was suffering the effects of it. She couldn’t even feel her hands.

“Where are you going?” Her voice came out heavy with sleep.

She’d startled him. His dark head whipped around to face her, the metal charm in the braid he wore behind his ear jingled.

He picked up a quiver of arrows and slung it around his shoulder, “Hunting.”

“Untie me,” she said, adding a, “please,” after a few beats of silence.

“No.”

“Then, take me with you. That way you can keep an eye on me.”

“You’ll only get in the way.”

“Please…Kylo,” his name felt foreign on her tongue. “I can’t even feel my hands anymore.”

He was so silent she thought he’d left, but then she felt him behind her and the ropes fell away. She pulled her hands into her lap, rubbing the raw purple lines encircling both wrists.

“Here,” he shoved a leather bag into her hands. “Stay close to me and if you think about trying to escape…don’t. I don’t think I have to tell you that you wouldn’t make it two feet before I caught you.”

“This is _my_ land…did it ever occur to you that I might know its ins and outs better than you do? I could hide and you’d never find me.”

A dark look crossed his face. It happened a lot. She’d only been with him for a day and she’d already witnessed it several times. He stormed out of the tent pulling her along, giving her no choice but to follow.

The sky was a faint purple as the sun prepared to rise. The camp was still asleep, only a few people moved about. Kylo’s long legs carried him faster than Rey could keep up by walking alone. She soon had to jog to avoid being dragged. Her breath was coming in fast, cold bursts by the time the were in the forest.

Kylo stopped amidst the trees, just at the bank of the river Scamander. He squinted his eyes as he looked to the opposite bank. “Keep quiet,” he said. As if she needed to be told that. She’d been out hunting with Poe enough times to know how it was done.

Rey had tried to avoid looking at him for too long up to now. He was her country’s enemy and her personal jailer…she needed to hate him but she _did_ have eyes _._ Evil or no, he was a work of art. Which made sense really. She’d seen likenesses of the gods before, all of them flawless…and Kylo was one of them…or at least, half of him was.

Looking at him now—standing frozen in the dappled light, wind rustling his lustrous hair, corded muscles tight and holding up a bow like Apollo himself—it was easy to imagine a marble statue of him somewhere.

It was unfair really. Why had the gods made such a beautiful man and filled him with such a wicked soul?

He released her wrist. Rey left him searching for his prey. She spotted a blackberry bush a few feet away and tiptoed over to it. She began plucking the juicy berries and adding them to the leather bag. 

“What are you doing?” he growled at her. 

“What’s it look like?”

“You don’t know if those are edible.”

“Actually I do. I’m not as helpless as I look. I spent a lot of time scavenging for food. I know everything in this forest,” she popped one in her mouth and bit down, flashing him a triumphant smile.

He lowered his bow, brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “What? You thought I grew up in the palace? Had everything handed to me?”

“You do live in the palace, though. Don’t you?”

“Now…yes.” She looked down at the bush, concentrating on her task instead of the confusion in his obsidian eyes.

“How old were you when Leia and Han took you in?” He’d been gravitating closer throughout the exchange and now he was close enough that Rey could feel the heat from his body brushing against hers. He really had no concept of physical boundaries—just hoisting her over his shoulder whenever he felt like it.

“I was twelve.”

“And before that?”

“Before that nothing. It’s none of your business.” The moment felt intimate. When had _that_ happened? She put some distance between them, taking her bag of berries and walking down the bank.

She knelt and dipped her hands into the water, washing away the dirt and blood.

“I was younger than you were when I left home—nine, I think. Can’t even remember really.” He was beside her, watching her clean her forearms and biceps. “Why don’t you just get in? Your hair could use washing.”

Without thinking she splashed water at his face. It was so like the teasing banter between her and Poe that she’d forgotten who she was really with. She expected him to be angry, but he chuckled and stood.

“Come to think of it, I could use a bath as well.” With no more warning, he stripped off his tunic and sandals and jumped in the river, making sure to splash her as much as possible.

His upper body emerged right in front of where she crouched. He stood so the water was waist high, pushed his wet locks off his face and grinned. “Coming, Priestess?”

Water made pathways down his marble chest and along the deep rivets of his abs before rejoining the stream. His lower half was still in the water, though Rey could see the hazy outlines. Her mind screamed at her to look away but she could not.

She’d only ever seen Poe naked…he’d been injured once and she’d helped the healers attend him. But he was her brother, his body held no interest. She hadn’t even paid attention to it. She’d thought this spoke to her destiny as a priestess—men were just not that interesting, not that tempting.

But this one was.

And that was a dangerous thing.

He’d displayed every inch of himself to her with no shame and that image had not faded in her mind in the least. A part of her admired his freedom. 

To her horror, she did not object to joining him. Instead, she said, “I can’t swim.” It came out coy, almost flirtatious and she was horrified at herself.

He tilted his head. “Well, that is unacceptable. We must teach you. Get in.”

She did. Before she could lose her nerve she slid into the water, robes and all. He laughed at her as she clutched for purchase at the rocks along the bank. The current was strong beneath the surface, threatening to pull her along with it.

“It helps if you take your clothes off first.” His hands pawed at her robes but she batted him away with one hand, nearly losing her grip on the bank as she did.

“My robes were dirty also—two birds with one stone.”

“Now they’re clean…and we need to get them off you. You’ll never learn to swim that way. The fabric will weigh you down. If it makes you feel better, I won’t look.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

“Because you’re a stubborn cow.”

She’d have slapped him if her life hadn’t depended on her keeping hold of the rocks. She felt the fabric at the hem of the robes traveling up toward her waist, exposing her calves and thighs. She squeaked when she realized it wasn’t the current but Kylo, doing it. A strong arm snaked around her waist, stabilizing her in the current, the warm smooth skin a sharp contrast to the cool water.

Their bodies were diagonal to one another, forming a _v_ with the length of their sides pressed together, anchored by his arm around her waist. One of her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Let go. I’ve got you.”

Her hands obeyed without thought…probably because her brain had shut off at the feel of his arm against her bare skin. With his free hand he lifted the robes further.

“Arms up,” he said, finally pulling the filthy robes over her head. He didn’t ask permission, and part of her was glad for that. She could cling to some amount of dignity knowing she hadn’t explicitly allowed this—instead, he’d simply done as he saw fit.

Rey wrapped her free arm around her chest, covering as much as possible. To his credit, Kylo’s eyes stayed on her face…but it wasn’t much of a consolation. Even if he wasn’t looking, she could feel his naked body pressed up against hers from ribs to hips, and it was far from innocent.

“Now, hold onto my forearms and turn to face me.”

She braced herself as he’d instructed and they faced one another, eye level for once in the deep water.

“Move your legs in circles to tread water.”

Her legs took on a rhythm of their own. She watched his face and he watched hers. It was uncomfortable but she wasn’t going to be the first to look away. What was she doing? If she’d been thinking clearly she could’ve run from him the moment he jumped into he river.

“Tell me about your life before the palace. You said you were a scavenger?”

“I was a slave…my master, Unkar, was a Tinker in the city. I scavenged materials for him.”

“And that’s how the royals found you?”

“It was Poe who found me. He came into our shop. He was fourteen at the time,” she hadn’t even noticed he’d dropped one of her hands and now only held onto her left.

“Move your hand back and forth like this. Sort of like the tail of a fish,” he demonstrated the movement and she copied with her free hand. 

“Why did you leave home?” She’d shared a part of herself, he could at least do the same.

His free hand came up to tuck his shoulder length hair behind one of his large ears. Rey smiled at their size. Larger than life, like the rest of him. “I didn’t leave voluntarily. I was stolen…but as I grew older, I found I didn’t want to go back.”

”Never? I spent my life wishing I had somewhere to go back to. How could you leave that behind? We’re your parents unkind?”

He hesitated, dark eyes growing distant. “No,” he said at length, “It wasn’t that they were unkind.”

She wanted to ask him more but they were interrupted by footsteps. Kylo clutched her to his chest with such speed, she didn’t even have time to realize what was happening.

“Well, that didn’t take as long as I thought it would.” It was the blonde Queen, Phasma. She and Hux were standing on the bank, watching.

The red head didn’t look entirely pleased.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Rey insisted. “He’s teaching me to swim.”

“Ah, classic,” said Hux.

“Did you need something?” Kylo released all but Rey’s left hand, allowing her to tread on her own once more. She quickly ducked behind him, using his body as a shield to guard her nakedness.

“You weren’t in your tent. We figured you went hunting. It’s nearly eight—we were to spar before breakfast,” Hux said impatiently.

“I forgot,” said Kylo.

“I can see that,” Phasma smiled.

“Let us get dressed. We’ll meet you in the clearing we passed on the way into the forest,” Kylo pointed off in the direction he meant. “Hux, would you mind bringing my sword?”

“Already did. Saw it in the tent and figured you forgot. I know you too well.”

“Thank-you Hux,” Kylo called to their retreating forms. He paddled them both to the bank and climbed out, hauling her out behind him.

“Turn around,” Rey wrapped her arms across her chest as her eyes frantically searched for her robes. She hadn’t seen where he’d thrown them.

“No,” he grinned down at her face and stepped a bit too close.

“Where are my robes? You did this on purpose.” She said through gritted teeth.

One dark eyebrow quirked, “Find them.”

She was about to do just that but he grabbed hold of her wrist, fingers digging into the rope burns. She hissed in surprise. She’d thought for a single moment that he would at least be gentle with her but she’d been stupid to hope. “Let me go.”

“Shut up,” the flirtatious teasing was gone from his voice and Rey was momentarily panicked. She looked up to find that his eyes were elsewhere, focused between the trees.

Then, she heard it. _“Keep to formation. We cross the river in fours.”_

Jedhan soldiers. They’d come to ambush the camp. A cry was on her lips but Kylo’s hand clamped around her mouth. With a thud, she was belly-down on the wet forrest dirt, sticks and rocks jutting into her exposed skin. A crushing weight settled on top of her, immobilizing her limbs. Slippery skin met slippery skin and Rey didn’t want to think about what she could feel pressed into he soft flesh of her buttocks.

“Mphhh!” She let out a muffled cry against the hot flesh of Kylo’s palm.

She could feel his breath in her ear when he spoke, “Ah ah ah.” Her senses were filled with him. His body had at least a foot in length on hers so, she could feel his weight bearing down on every inch of her shoulders to ankles. She could smell the salt of the river on his skin and the sandalwood oil in his hair.

It should’ve sent her nerves screaming. She was a priestess. Physical contact of any sort was frowned upon…let alone _this_. If Master Kenobi could see her now he’d be all shades of red.

Rey watched helplessly as a squadron of Jedhans, led by Poe in full battle regalia, emerged into the clearing across the bank. They had a raft of logs tied together and they forded across the river in fours.

She and Kylo were concealed by cattails and other heavy shrubbery along the bank. None of the soldiers even looked their way…until one stopped, crouched down and rose again with something clutched in his hands.

Her robes.

“General,” said the soldier.

Poe turned to the man as he held out Kylo’s tunic and Rey’s soaked robes. Poe took them, face slipping into despair. “Rey.” The word left him like a gust of wind. “Let’s go.” He said, voice dark and violent. He dropped the clothes and strode off with his men at his heels. “Those bastards are leaving…today!”

Kylo didn’t release her until the Jedhans were long gone and even then, he didn’t release her completely. He kept his hand over her mouth and clutched her around the waist, keeping her flush against his chest. He scooped up their clothes and maneuvered them both, still naked, through the forest. Phasma and Hux waited in the clearing with weapons. Neither of them flinched at the sight of Rey and Kylo.

“An ambush is headed this way,” said Kylo.

“We saw,” said Phasma.

“Follow me back to the tent.” Kylo didn’t wait for an answer. They received some odd looks but were mostly shielded from prying eyes by Hux and Phasma.

In the tent, Kylo released her, depositing her onto the bed. He dropped their clothes beside her and quickly set about strapping on his armor.

“I hate you.” She wanted to scold him, or throw a tantrum but why? Had she really expected anything less? She settled for glaring at him from the bed with her arms folded over her chest.

“No, you don’t,” He said. “Stay here. Get some sleep. I’ll post guards outside all around the tent so, no one will hurt you.”

 _So, no one will rescue you._ He didn’t say it but it was what he meant.

* * *

Kylo was glad for the interruption in the forrest. It had been stupid to bring her along. She was distracting in all the ways he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

Maybe he should give her to Phasma. He dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his mind because—distraction or no—she belonged to him.

He was a possessive man…but usually only when it came to objects. His armor, his weapons. Even Hux knew the consequences of touching those. But, he was not possessive of people. If anything, he was the opposite. He pushed people away. Always had.

But the Priestess was different. He _wanted_ to possess her, to keep her.

 _She’s a trophy_. _The first you’ve won from the Jedhans_. A traitorous voice whispered the words in his mind…but he knew they weren’t the whole truth. He did love to hurt his family in any way he could…but it was more than that.

Thoughts of Rey filled his mind as he sprinted out to join the battle. It didn’t take long. The Jedhan attack had been sloppy and ill-planned. The Greeks drove them back across the sands to the gates of their city in a matter of hours.

When it was done he was too wound up to return to the tent. The sight of her there might’ve snapped his already thin self-control. So, he went back into the forest to hunt their dinner and burn off some energy.

He returned to camp an hour later with four rabbits in the leather bag and a good helping of blackberries, which he’d picked for Rey since he’d squished the first batch by tackling her to the ground.

He was in a rather pleasant mood until he saw the tent…something was wrong.

“Where is she?” He looked around the empty tent and turned furious eyes to his guards.

“Ki-ki-king Sn-snoke,” one stuttered out.

“He sent half a dozen men to collect her,” said the other.

“Dammit.” Kylo roared, throwing the leather sack to the ground, ruining the second batch of blackberries.

* * *

Kylo stalked to the High King’s ship, sword drawn. Every man he passed shrank back at the sight of him. He could feel the rage bubbling in his veins—he was barely keeping hold of it enough to prevent himself from slaughtering everything in his path.

It wasn’t just that he’d lost Rey. It was the sheer audacity of Snoke. Honor was everything to a warlord like Kylo. The spoils of war were gifts given in homage to this honor. To revoke a gift was tantamount to spitting on a man.

Kylo had _never_ been spat on.

He wasn’t going to start now.

The guard’s stationed outside the throne room tried to stop him entering and each received a black eye for their effort.

Snoke was in his throne—where else would he have been. He had a small audience of Kings—Phasma among them. Bazine was seated in a chair to Snoke’s left. The King’s mistress grinned when Kylo entered.

So, this was her doing? She would pay.

The rest of the crowd turned to Kylo and Snoke bellowed, “What is the meaning of this?”

Kylo pointed his sword menacingly at the King of Kings. _“_ If you dishonor me by stealing my possessions in my absence, you pay for it in blood.”

Snoke rose to his ancient feet. “Leave us,” he said to their audience, waving his hands to shoo them out.

Kylo kept his stance as the Kings filed past. Phasma paused and laid a hand on his bicep, “Don’t get caught up in the politics,” she warned before she too left the room.

“You presume to threaten me, boy? I made you what you are.”

“I threaten those who dishonor me.”

“And that is all you think about isn’t it? Honor? You are a soldier. Learn your place,” Snoke moved slowly closer.

“Be careful King of Kings. I won you the beach you now stand on.”

Snoke laughed. “The conquering of the beach was a great victory but that victory was not yours. Kings did not pay homage to you, Kylo Ren.”

“Perhaps the Kings were too far back to see—the soldiers won the battle.”

Snoke’s breath rustled Kylo’s hair as he bellowed. “History remembers Kings not soldiers! That was the one thing you failed to see when you ran from your true born name. Now, you’re nothing but a weapon.”

He was so close. One thrust of his sword and Kylo could end him, here and now. But it wasn’t that simple. Kill the High King now and he’d have ten thousand men to answer to. Snoke, for now, was untouchable—and he knew it, which grated Kylo’s nerves to no end.

“Where is she?” Kylo growled.

Bazine clapped her hands. “Slave girl,” she called.

Rey emerged from the curtained doorway in the arms of two soldiers. Her ankles were shackled and she had a new bruise blooming on her left cheek. Her robes were back and still damp from the morning swim. She hid behind the curtain of her tangled chestnut hair, not even noticing Kylo.

“Bazine, if you like your head attached to your neck as it is now, you will let her go.”

Bazine purred with laughter, “We can always count on you for pithy threats Ren. It’s adorable, really.”

“No one stole anything from you,” Snoke said. “I said you could have her…I didn’t say you could _keep_ her. You’ve had her…now, it’s my turn.”

In a flash of movement, Kylo pulled Bazine from the chair and pressed his blade to her throat. “The slave or her. Decide,” he said looking directly into the High King’s beady black eyes.

“Stop!” Rey's voice silenced the standoff. “Please. Enough people have died already. I won’t let anyone die for me. If killing is your only talent, that’s your curse.”

Kylo searched her face and found that the pity had returned. It was the look that had initially prompted him to claim her. The warrior cursed and let Bazine go, shoving her at Snoke as he paced the room.

“What, no threats? Nothing to say?” Snoke eyed Rey approvingly, “Whoever you are, you must be special if you can shut him up. I’ve tried unsuccessfully for years.”

“You want me to say something?” Kylo spat on the dirt before the throne. “Hear this—you’ve dishonored me and I won’t stand for it. Good luck winning this war without your best warrior.”

With that, he stalked out, replaying the slight measure of fear he’d seen on Snoke’s face over and over in his mind with satisfaction.

* * *

Queen Phasma of Illum prided herself on her cunning. She may not have been the best warrior, but she could outwit the best of men any day.

This is why she had stayed just outside the curtains of the throne room and listened to what went on. When Kylo stalked out, she followed.

“Kylo, you can’t just refuse to fight,” she argued as she fell into step with him.

“I just did.”

“Is she really worth all of this?”

Kylo stopped walking and rounded on her. “You think this is about the Priestess? It is about honor. Snoke has none.” He resumed his relentless pace toward their section of the beach.

“Think of your men!” She said, “They came here for war. To win their own honor. You are robbing them of that chance. Think of the men who will die if you do not fight. What of them? What of Hux? Or me? I have a wife and a kingdom that I want to return to one day. You’ll only drag out the inevitable if you refuse to fight.”

“What’s happening?” Hux appeared and followed them into the tent.

“Your childhood friend has just declared his own war against King Snoke,” Phasma threw up her hands.

“What? Why?”

“Snoke dishonored me,” Said Kylo between pulls from the sack of wine he’d scooped off the floor.

“The girl?” Hux looked to Phasma, “I heard the men talking.”

“No. Not the girl. It’s more than the girl. He thinks he can just sit in his throne and watch us do all the work. He would claim the credit for all of our toil…and I won’t stand for it. Until he comes here groveling to have me back—I’ll not lift my sword for his cause.”

Phasma shook her head. “Will you try to talk some sense into him? I’m going to do the same with the other members of this feud.”

She left them and crossed the sands once more to enter Snoke’s throne room. “My liege,” she greeted the King of Kings, who had resumed his audience with the First Order Kings.

“Has he sent you to do his groveling?” Said Snoke.

“No, I came on my own. You cannot win this war without him.”

Some of the others in the room agreed.

“You think I don’t know that?” Snoke growled, “But what would you have me do…the man is insufferable.”

“Give him back the girl.”

Bazine snorted and rose to her dainty feet. “Absolutely not.”

Snoke turned a glare to his mistress, “This is your fault, woman. You’re the one who demanded I take the slave girl back. Look what your jealousy has wrought. You lost Finn so you started a war. Now, you’ve lost Kylo and you’ve stared another.”

Bazine’s almond shaped eyes flashed with anger, “Don’t pretend that Finn is the cause of this war. We both know you used that as propaganda to rally these men to your cause,” she waved her arms at their captive audience. “You’ve had your eye on Jedha for years. Don’t lay this war at my feet.” She stormed out with all the subtlety of a stampede.

Snoke studied Phasma for a long time. He dropped heavily into his throne, seeming tired. With a sigh he said, “He can have the girl. If he can find her. I gave the girl to the men.”

* * *

Rey screamed. It was all she could do as her limbs were being pinned by four separate men. It was sunset and they were outside on the beach around a bonfire. All of them stank of alcohol and some were so drunk they were slurring their speech. 

She’d been called more vulgar names in the last four minutes than she had during her entire tenure as Unkar’s slave.

When she saw the soldier take the glowing orange tip of the branding iron out of the fire’s flames, her skin went white. Up until this moment, she hadn’t been truly afraid.

She was frightened, but she believed it would be okay in the end…until now. Why had she stopped Kylo? He’d have killed that vile woman and taken her away from them. Was she really wishing to have him back? Was she so far gone?

Apparently…yes, she was…because when the dark warrior appeared out of no where and cut down the man with the iron, she cried out his name in joy.

The men holding her simply let her go, backing away in fear of the warlord. Kylo was terrifying, dark eyes manic, teeth snarling. He scooped Rey up, as was his way and carried her back to the safety of his tent. For once, she didn’t argue.

This time he didn’t toss her violently on the bed. Instead, he lowered her carefully to the furs in the sitting area and immediately went to the tent flaps and yelled something to his men. When he came back, an old woman was with him. She had more wrinkles than face, but her eyes were kind.

“This is Maz Kanata…she’s a healer from Phasma’s kingdom. She will see to you. Did Snoke…um…do you need her to…” he trailed off and Rey thought he might have been blushing.

“Oh,” she realized what he’d meant. “No…he didn’t.”

Kylo nodded and came to sit beside her, pulling a tray of fruits and cheeses in front of them. He ate silently while Maz tottered to Rey’s side.

“Kylo tells me your name is Rey?”

She nodded. “You don’t have to help me. I’ve had worse.”

“Nonsense, girl. That cut above your eye needs stitched or it will fester. Can’t have you dying of infection—I don’t think this war can afford that,” she cast a wry look at Kylo, who was far too interested in his grapes.

Maz got to work sterilizing a needle and humming a soft pleasant tune under her breath.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Kylo got up and grabbed another bowl, which he set beside Rey. “I went back for these.”

Rey looked from the blackberries to his eyes and back. “What is it you want from me?”

He frowned. “Why must you assume I want something. Can’t I just give you blackberries without having ulterior motives?” He rose and said nothing as he left the tent. Rey watched him go, a small smile tugging at her lips. He could go from a menacing warlord to a petulant child in the blink of an eye. He was more like Poe than she'd ever admit to him. Perhaps, that was why his presence comforted her. He reminded her of home.

Maz uncorked a vial that smelled faintly of eucalyptus. She spread the salve on Rey’s skin. “This will help with the pain.”

Rey nodded, meekly reaching out to snatch up a few berries. “You are from Illum?”

Maz nodded as she threaded the needle. “It’s a beautiful country. Small, but lush. Have you ever been there?”

“No. I’ve never been anywhere but Jedha.”

“Ah,” Maz nodded sagely. “You are lucky to have a protector like Kylo…he doesn’t often _take_ to people.”

Rey flinched as she began stitching the cut. Maz’s fingers were soft, the skin thin like gauze. She was gentle, good at her job.

“I don’t feel very lucky,” said Rey “I want to go home.”

“Don’t we all, girl. But we make the best of what we’re given.”

“Did they force you to come here?”

“No. I volunteered.”

Rey’s brow furrowed as much as it could whilst being stitched together. “Don’t you have a family…grandchildren?”

The old woman smiled, “I was not blessed with family—though I have many children. I devoted my life to healing. I came when my Queen called because it is my life’s purpose. As a Priestess, you should understand that.”

“I used to think that was my purpose…”

“…But now, you are not sure.”

Rey said nothing. She chewed the berries thoughtfully.

Maz stood. “Well, my door is always open if you’d like to talk or help with healing—in case you’re looking for a new purpose.”

Kylo returned, lurking in the corner like a silent demon. Maz walked right up to him, comically short compared to his strapping frame. “Be gentle with her,” the old woman patted his arm, cast one final smile at Rey and slipped out the tent flaps.

“You can have the bed,” Kylo said as he emerged from the shadows.

“I can sleep here,” she patted the furs.

“You’re hurt. You should sleep on the bed.”

She folded her arms over her chest in defiance.

“Shall I carry you there? Don’t think I won’t.”

Faced with that choice, Rey rose to her feet and lowered herself gingerly to the soft bed. She barely contained a sigh as the soft fabric cradled her aching body. “Happy?” She asked defiantly.

Kylo said nothing. He stretched out on the furs where Rey had been sitting, absently plucking berries from the bowl. “These aren’t bad,” he said. “I’d forgotten.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run?”

“You’ve seen what awaits you outside the tent…so, no.”

“What if I slit your throat while you sleep?”

“Then, you’d have no one to bring you blackberries.”

“Can’t have that,” She said lazily as her eyelids grew heavy. “You’re right. Perhaps, I’ll escape tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Greeks were much more lax about nudity so I didn't think it too weird that they come out of the forest naked as they are. It would've been a shrug and move on kind of thing--though not for Rey, obviously, being a Priestess.


	7. Grotto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer!!!

“Go yourself and sit beside him, abandon the gods' way,

turn your feet back never again to the path of Olympos

but stay with him forever, and suffer for him, and look after him.” 

― **Homer** , **The Iliad**

 

Ch 6:

Grotto

 

Rey woke at dawn to the sounds of the horn summoning the soldiers to war. Kylo gave no indication of joining them. His armor remained on its stand, watching them from the corner like a ghost. He was bare chested with the dark blue tunic he’d worn the day before around his waist, lounging on the furs, eyes on her.

“Were you watching me sleep?” She said distastefully.

“Maybe,” he replied, “You’re much less abrasive when you sleep.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I am not sure if I should be offended by that.”

“You should,” he said throwing a berry at her.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” She climbed out of bed, chewing on the berry.

“No,” He stood and stretched his arms overhead. She caught herself watching the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, gliding and shifting.

He must’ve noticed her ogling because he winked. Her cheeks burned as she looked away.

Hux and Phasma entered the tent both of them in full armor. They took in the sight of Rey, red faced and looking down at her hands with Kylo standing half-naked beside her. Both of their expressions turned to exasperation.

“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?” Phasma said.

“Have any formal apologies been issued?” Said Kylo. “No? Then, I don’t think I will be joining the fight today.”

Phasma raked a hand through her short cropped blonde hair. She didn’t seem particularly surprised, just disappointed. “I’ll leave you, then. My men are waiting for me,” she squeezed Hux’s hand as she left.

Hux remained. He was one of Kylo’s soldiers—not a Knight of Ren but not a servant either. If Kylo wasn’t going to war, neither was he…much to his apparent displeasure. “You have to fight. It’s why we came.”

“I was thinking of asking Rey to go for a walk. Would you like to join us, Hux?” Kylo turned to Rey, “Hux and I usually spar before breakfast.”

“I’ll go change,” Hux left with a glare muttering _‘This is unbelievable!”_ Under his breath.

Kylo grabbed a sword from the basket that held the weapons, inspecting it’s polish and weight.

“Don’t suppose you have a staff in there.” Rey said as she did her own inspecting of her tattered robes.

Kylo chuckled, “What kind of soldier uses a staff? This is melee. You think a staff would hold up to a thousand iron swords?”

“A staff was the only weapon I was ever allowed. King Luke—“

“—Is an old fashioned zealot,” Kylo interrupted.

Rey blinked at him in surprise. “How would you know?”

“Lucky guess,” He selected another practice sword from the basket, “I can teach you, if you’d like. The sword…I don’t want to brag but I’m a bit of an expert.”

Rey rolled her eyes, thoroughly distracted from the earlier discussion of Luke. “Do you…could I borrow something else to wear? I need to wash and mend these,” she held the tattered robes away from her body. “They won’t be much good for sparring at any rate.”

“Maz can mend them. I’ll ask her later this afternoon.” He rifled through a chest and emerged with some very fine fabrics in rich green and gold. He held them out to her in silence and went back to his inspection of the weapons.

Rey waited to see if he would leave, or at least turn around to let her change but he didn’t move. In fact, he was watching her expectantly. “Could you at least turn around?”

“Modest all of a sudden?” He said, dark eyes lit with amusement, “I’ve seen it already, Priestess.”

“Yes, you were very subtle about it too,” Rey grumbled.

He scoffed as he turned. “I’ve never met a woman who complains as much as you do. Most take their clothes off without being asked,” He shuddered a bit at some memory.

“You have said a lot of arrogant things in the last few days but I think that was a new low.”

”You’ve nothing to be ashamed of Rey. Your a bit thin perhaps but your breasts are perfectly shaped and turned up—“

”Finish that sentence and I will slit your throat in your sleep.”

He chuckles but fell silent. She slipped out of her Priestess robes and stared at the fabrics he’d given her. She devised a way to drape it around her back and bring it across her front to tie around the neck. As long as the knot held it would provide decent coverage during swordplay.

 

* * *

Kylo glanced over his shoulder when he heard the rustling of fabric. He couldn’t help himself. There was something so infuriatingly intriguing about Rey of Jedha. She met his eyes—she knew he’d been watching. 

“Is that all I am to you?” She asked as she struggled with the wrap. “A conquest? Is that why you keep me? Why you’re kind to me? Well, as kind as someone like you knows how to be?”

Yes. He didn’t say it but he thought it. He’d been pondering that exact question a lot over the last two days. Women had always been conquests. They’d been fascinating until he got them into his bed—then, the fascination fell away. 

This girl had flooded his mind in a way none had before. He craved her. Thought of her at every free moment. His fingers twitched with wanting to reach for her when she was near. It was different, new and entirely unsettling.

He was sure that it would fade once he could taste her. Just a taste and his curiosity would be sated. Then, he could be free of her. Then, he would return to normal and she would cease from haunting his dreams.

She was staring at him, hip cocked brow raised, waiting for an answer.

He promptly left the tent.

He paced the sand outside waiting for her. Hux came out of his own tent adjacent to Kylo’s. Hux had left his armor behind but his irritated glare stayed put.

He stood watching Kylo pace back and forth with his arms folded defensively.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hux asked. “You’re not yourself. You’ve been different since we arrived. Is it your family?”

Kylo’s head snapped up at that. “No,” he said, offended. “I don’t care about those self-centered prick-licks. I can’t wait to tear down that damn wall they hide behind.”

“So, it’s the slave then?”

“She’s a Priestess…not a slave.”

Hux gave a wry smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “If you say so.”

Rey stepped out of the tent and Kylo momentarily forgot Hux was even there. The sun played with the golden tanned skin of her exposed shoulders and collarbone while the green fabric complimented her hazel eyes. She still had lingering bruises and the cuts on her face were not all together healed, but she was regal all the same. That haughty, upturned nose had returned. Kylo grinned. He preferred her that way—self righteous and confident, as though she could clobber every man in the camp before supper and still have time to light a few candles to Apollo after dessert.

“Ready to go?” Kylo asked, tossing her the practice sword.

She caught it. Good reflexes, he thought approvingly. 

They went through the forrest and climbed to a hilltop that was covered in wildflowers. There were no trees and the hilltop was relatively flat, plus it was out of view of the camp. Kylo paired her with Hux first, leaving him free to observe and give instruction.

Hux had been his closest friend since he arrived in Snoke’s court at the tender age of nine. He loved him like a brother and would admit that the man had many admirable qualities—warfare was not among them. He was perfect for Rey to learn on, though.

Rey was a quick study. She seemed to glow in the sun as she lunged and thrust her blunt sword at a much slower moving Hux. There was an aura about her. The only thing he could compare it to were the descriptions he’d received of himself.

He hadn’t known what everyone meant when they said he glowed when he had a weapon in hand, that he was otherworldly, godlike. Now, he understood. She was the same.

Kylo tilted his head, mesmerized by her natural skill. Who was she? Leia and Han had adopted her, she had been a slave—but who was she before? Who was she by birth? Questions he’d need to ask as soon as they were alone.

Rey pinned hux to the ground, poking him in the sternum with the sword point. “Yield?” She asked.

Hux laughed, his earlier dour mood eased by the skirmish. “Yield,” he agreed as she helped him up. “You could give Phasma a run for her money. Perhaps, I misjudged Kylo’s possessiveness. You could prove to be a brilliant warrior.”

“Thank you?” Said Rey sardonically.

Hux’s grin widened, displaying pearly white teeth in neat rows. “Alright, Ren, you win. I like this one…not that I agree with your boycott of the war but I’ll stop bringing that up—for now. Tell me about yourself, Rey,” He said as they collapsed, panting beside Kylo on the flat rock where the warrior perched. “It doesn’t look like you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon so…I feel I should get to know you.”

Kylo took a round loaf of bread from the pack he’d brought, tearing a piece for Hux, Rey and himself. He tried to appear disinterested in the conversation but he was certain he was failing miserably.

Rey picked at the bread, “There’s not much to tell really. I live in the palace. I just recently took my vows. Only a few days before I was captured, actually. I grew up in Jedha. I like daffodils and lavender. I’m fairly boring.”

“I don’t think you’re boring,” Hux said kindly. “ _I’m_ boring. I have no family to speak of…though I did have a cat back in Moraband. I’d have brought her here…but I thought she’d be safer in the palace. I’ve known Kylo since we were nine years old. I’m a terrible soldier—as you’ve just witnessed…and I’ve a penchant for expensive wine.”

Rey was peering at him, studying him again. Kylo could feel the weight of her hazel eyes on the side of his face, making his cheeks heat up as if her eyes held the warmth of the sun. “You’re turn,” She said.

“What do you want to know?” He asked between mouthfuls of bread.

“Everything,” Hux said, batting his eyelashes theatrically. “Regale us with your tales of conquest.”

“I’ve no family,” Kylo began.

Hux snorted and Kylo glowered at him.

“Fine. I won’t play this game, then,” Kylo rose and scooped up the discarded sword. “On your feet, Priestess.”

 

* * *

Hux watched them fighting—circling each other, teasing more like. Kylo was just playing with her but Rey was keeping up well for someone who’d never held a sword before.

Hux wanted to hate her…but it was proving harder and harder to do. He’d loved Kylo Ren since boyhood, would go to the ends of the earth if he asked. Though, it had always been clear that Kylo had other interests…so, he’d settled for the title of brother and confidant.

It had been enough until Rey.

Hux saw the way they looked at each other…and it was only just beginning. The gods themselves had willed this, he could feel it in the energy that crackled in the air between them.

Kylo was lost to him, even if the warlord himself didn’t see it yet. 

Phasma had suggested as much the day Kylo claimed the slave girl.

In a way, it was ironic. Perhaps, the Sun God Apollo would have his revenge after all—the Greek’s best hero had been rendered harmless by his infatuation with none other than Apollo’s Priestess.

Perhaps, it was best not to point that out to Kylo, though.

They continued their skirmish, both of them seeming to have forgotten their audience. Eyes only for each other. So, Hux left them to their battle and returned to the camp where he sought out Maz, she was always good company when no other options existed. 

 

* * *

The Greek army rode out to the gates of Jedha. Queen Phasma rode in a chariot at he head of her men; her army was slightly behind Snoke and Bazine who rode in one chariot, flanked on either side by Ajax and Nestor.

The Jedhan army was there to greet them. Poe stood at the helm of his men in his splendid armor, every breath from his body sophisticated and correct. Beside Poe, stood Prince-consort Han. The aging general wore splendid armor of his own marked with the sun sigil of Jedha’s royal family. On the other side of Poe stood Finn…the man that all this was for—well, more or less.

Phasma hadn’t taken much notice of him at the Summit. He was just a constant fixture, always in Snoke’s shadow, never talking to anyone or drawing attention to himself. Now, he seemed proud, princely even. Perhaps, Jedha suited him.

Snoke exited his chariot and Bazine followed. Phasma held up a hand to halt her men. All waited with baited breath to watch the exchange.

“Finn,” Snoke croaked. “How nice to finally see you again. Jedha agrees with you.”

Finn bowed his head in acknowledgment but said nothing.

Poe stepped forward. “This is not a war between nations, Snoke. It is a feud between men.”

“What are you getting at boy?”

Finn looked nervously to the champion of Jedha. He tried to step forward also but Han placed a staying hand on his arm and shook his head. Clearly, this was not a strategy they’d discussed. Phasma had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly where this was headed.

Poe continued, “Let no more men die for this cause. I challenge you to a duel for the right to Finn. Your best fighter against me. If I win, I keep Finn and you leave Jedha and never return.”

“And if I win?” Snoke purred, grinning evilly.

“Then, you will have your war.”

Snoke began to say that he wanted to confer with his advisors but Bazine spoke out, “We accept your challenge, Champion of Jedha.”

Snoke flashed his teeth at the woman who dared speak for him. He yanked her back to the group that had formed—Phasma, Nestor, Ajax and the others. 

“Let Ajax crush him,” Bazine whispered to the group. “His every breath dishonors you. After Ajax kills him, take the city.”

“He challenged your best warrior and Kylo is not here. You should not take this challenge,” said Phasma. “Don’t underestimate them.”

“Ha!” Bazine snorted, “Ajax will squash them with a single blow.”

Snoke’s eyes roved over them all, lingering on Phasma’s pleading eyes. In the end, he agreed to the duel and Phasma heard Bazine whisper to Ajax that she wanted the final strike.

Poe waded out into the sand, holding his sword at his side. Ajax stalked toward him, he had at least a head of height on Poe—he had so on everyone, even Phasma. 

The duel began. It was slow and brutal. The clang of metal screeched in the air. Both were expert warriors and it became a matter of who would slip up first. Who would get lucky. Phasma felt sweat bead along her hairline when Ajax landed a severe hit to Poe’s left thigh. An angry red gash opened across his tawny skin, pouring blood like a waterfall into the sand.

Poe wasn’t swayed, he swung out in a fury and slashed Ajax across the abdomen. Ajax stumbled back and in that split second, Poe slashed again, this time at the bigger man’s neck…and Ajax tumbled face first into the sand.

“No!” Bazine screamed. Before anyone could catch her she stormed onto the battle field and scooped Ajax’s sword from the sand. Poe wasn’t expecting the attack. She stabbed the champion’s side with surprising force and Poe swayed, blood pooling along his lips. Some sprayed out when he coughed.

Han and Finn ran to his side. “Stop!” Han screamed. “The duel is over. Poe won. Accept your defeat with honor.”

Bazine swung again. Han blocked the blow with his own forearm, crying out in pain when the blade bit deep into his flesh. “You left us for this?” She said, eyes locked on Finn. “These pathetic people! Where is their King? Hmmmm? He’s not even here to defend his own country.” She spat in the sand, right where Poe had collapsed.

An arrow whizzed through the air so fast, Phasma hardly saw it. She heard the zing and suddenly Bazine staggered. The High King’s mistress turned to face the Greek army, arrow protruding from her neck at a grotesque angle. Her mouth worked to form words but nothing would come out. She managed two steps forward, arms outstretched toward an impassive Snoke before she fell beside Ajax in the sand.

Phasma traced the arrow to its source. It had come from above. Her eyes moved up the walls of Jedha where she saw Princess Leia—bow outstretched, murder in her eyes.

“Be ready at dawn. This is war,” Snoke growled as he turned his chariot and sped off, army in tow.

 

* * *

After their sparring, Kylo had suggested they catch fish for dinner—enough for Phasma and Hux to join them, since he was certain Hux was off pouting somewhere. Rey had suggested they also invite Maz.

Instead of the river, they went to the beach. They walked along the shore line until they found a small grotto set into the cliff face. Rey perched on a rock, her feet trailing in the crisp water. She watched Kylo. He stood stalk still, knee deep in the water, brandishing a spear. She laughed at him as his eyes tracked the movement of the fish below the water. Like a cat watching a bird.

“You know, there are easier ways to catch fish,” she said.

“Just because something is easier doesn’t mean it is better.”

Rey rolled her eyes. She looked around the grotto, wondering why she’d never found it before. She’d explored every inch of this shore line…or so she’d thought. She considered him again. Somehow, the day had passed and she hadn’t thought once of escape. A part of her felt as though she was betraying her family by staying here with him—another part of her wanted to stay and learn more about the demigod.

Kylo’s spear plunged in and out of the water so fast she might’ve blinked and missed it. A fish wriggled on the end with each thrust. Impressed Rey gave a polite clap. “Another thing you must teach me,” she said.

He pulled the fish off the end of the spear and tossed the spear into her hands. “Get up here, then.”

Rey tied the ends of her wrap up around her thinghs and waded out into the water beside him. He traded places with her, going to sit on the rock.

“Who were your parents?”

His question caught her off guard. She looked up from the water she’d been scrutinizing. “I don’t know. I’m an orphan. I never me them.”

“You don’t even know their names?”

She shook her head and went back to her search. She jabbed the water unsuccessfully. She didn’t manage to catch a fish, but she did manage to splash them both. Kylo chuckled at her. He took out a dagger and started cleaning the small pile of amassed fish.

“What about you?” She asked. “You said you were taken form your home when you were nine…what happened? Where was home before Greece?”

He was silent, that same unreadable darkness settling over him. The warrior had returned. When he spoke, his voice was cold and far away. “I lived in a palace, somewhere. I don’t remember much. I was hunting one day and was set upon by a group of mercenaries who had a prisoner with them. I was an arrogant fool—even then. Hard to imagine, I know,” He cast a weak smile at her. “I charged at them. Yelling at them for poaching in my forrest. Killed two of them before the prisoner broke free and finished them off. The man who I’d accidentally freed turned out to be Snoke. It was during the Greek civil wars you see. Snoke said he’d never seen anyone fight like me, child though I was. He begged me to come with him. I tried to run but he caught me. Next thing I knew, I was in a dungeon in his castle in Greece. Every day he’d come to me and ask me to foreswear my name. _Become something more_ , he called it. Every day I refused. Until one day, I realized that no one was coming for me. My family stopped looking. Maybe they never even noticed I was gone. So, I was remade.”

Rey forgot about the spear, moving to sit beside him. “Who taught you to fight?”

“No one,” He said, locking eyes with her. “I was born and this is what I am…as the gods made me.”

She watched him study the callouses on his knuckles, fighting the urge to touch them herself. “Are you one of them? Truly? A god?”

A half grin broke up the dark mask of his face. “Half—My mother was a goddess…but she chose to live a mortal life for my father…but apparently, the bloodline continued in me.”

A small crease formed between Rey’s brows. It was familiar. Everything he was telling her was familiar. She hadn’t had parents to tell her bedtime stories as a child and, as a result, she didn’t know many of the legends of the gods’ exploits. But there was something about this tale that reminded her of whispers she heard on the streets of Jedha. Things only heard in passing.

She was pulled from her thoughts by Kylo taking her hand to pull her to her feet. It wasn’t the intimate gesture she’d imagined and yet the warmth of his hand traveled up her arm, setting her nerves aflame. The force of it frightened her. No one had ever had that kind of effect on her…and it all came too late…she’d made her choice. She’d chosen the love of a god over the love of a man.

“Would you like to meet one?”

“A god?” Rey blinked. “How?”

“Close you eyes,” he said softly. She hesitated. Perhaps, he meant to kill her and send her to meet Hades now…she really couldn’t be sure with him. They were little more than strangers after all…and he was the most dangerous man in Greece.

“You don’t trust me,” he said flatly, reading the conflict in her eyes.

“Give me a reason to.”

Her eyes moved involuntarily to his wide pouted lips. He was so close to her, always invading her space. She had only to lean forward slightly and their lips would meet. Did she _want_ that? How could she want that? It was against everything she had dedicated her life to and against her country and family besides. No, she couldn’t let herself want that.

She stepped back and his beautifully carved face fell into utter sadness. She’d never seen someone look so crushed. It only took him a moment to recover, but it was too late, she’d seen it and some part of her ached from the sight.

“Some other time, then.” He collected the pile of fish and stomped away, assuming she would follow, which she did.

The others agreed to come for dinner. They gathered in Kylo’s tent, which was the most luxurious of them all. Strewn about on the cushions and furs with a plate of roasted fish, fruits, and cheese before them, they shared a meal. Maz had brought a flagon of wine which was also making its rounds amongst the group.

At the beginning of the meal, Phasma had refused to talk about the day’s battle, but the more wine she drank, the more forth coming she was.

Rey’s heart nearly stopped when she said that Poe had challenged Bazine to a duel. She felt Kylo’s eyes on her. “What happened?” Rey asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

“He’s alive,” said Phasma. “Bazine and Ajax are not.”

She saw Kylo’s flinch out of the corner of her eye. Rey didn’t know Ajax but she’d met Bazine and she couldn’t say she was sorry the woman was gone—a very ungodly statement, but oh well.

Kylo lifted his wine goblet, “To Ajax. He was a fine soldier. The best of men.”

“The best of men,” the others agreed.

“Enough talk of war,” Maz admonished. “You all are too young to be so serious.” She waddled over to the lyre by the armor stand. Rey hadn’t noticed it before. Was it Kylo’s?

The old healer thrust the instrument into Kylo’s hands. Kylo played and Hux began making up comical songs about made up heroes and war stories. _Hercules, the strong, could break anything but he could not dance to save his life and Hermal, the fast, who mistook hubris for hummus and is still choking on the crumbs._

Kylo was a surprisingly wonderful player…and Rey’s cheeks were hurting from Hux’s antics. She hadn’t meant to enjoy herself so much but after a glass of wine or two and as many songs, she was smiling, laughing, and gazing fondly at them all. They’d been the enemy and nothing more when they’d arrived here…but really they were only her enemies by chance. They were people like any others. People defending their country…just as hers were doing. They weren’t evil—at least not those in this tent.

Hux settled down and began asking Rey more questions about her interests. She found that her eyes were magnetically drawn to Kylo, playing softly across from her. Maz noticed—she was sure they all did, though no one commented aloud.

Finally, Maz cleared her throat and said, “Well, it’s getting late. Us old folk need our sleep. I’ll have those robes mended for you tomorrow Rey. Come by my tent around noontime.” She got up and bid them all goodbye, leaving with a wink to Rey.

Hux and Phasma excused themselves too..and she and Kylo were alone once more. He continued softly playing the lyre, refusing to look at her. Rey sighed in exasperation. His sheer ability to brood was really something to behold.

She went to him, not knowing what she would say, but certain that they couldn’t carry on like this. She pulled the lyre from his hands without asking. His eyes flashed and he was about to growl something at her, but she placed a hand over his mouth like he’d done to her at the river. 

“I want to meet the gods,” she said. “Show me?” She had purposely left out the _I trust you part_ …not quite ready to admit that, even to herself.

“Now?” He asked, even as she took his hands in hers, weaving their fingers together.

“Do you have some other pressing engagement?”

“No,” he led her by the hand back to the grotto. This time when he asked her to close her eyes, she obeyed. He dropped something into her palms, enclosing it between their hands. It was a smooth string of small beads of some kind.

“Grandfather?” He called out to the moonlit night around them.

“Grandson. This is a bit outside your regular visiting hours, I must say.”

Rey’s eyes shot open at the second voice. The beads in her hand were forgotten as she looked at the man who emerged from the water. She couldn’t say if he was old or young. _Ageless_ , the word flitted through her thoughts. He was dry, despite having come from the grotto. He wore long robes of ever-changing silver, as though the fabric were made of liquid steel.

The man tilted his head when he caught sight of them. Kylo stood behind her, chest pressed against her back, his arms wound around her front, hands closed over hers, the beads still between them.

A small smile lit the god’s face. “I’ll be damned.”

Rey thought it was very un god-like language. She supposed that she didn’t know as much about the gods as she’d thought.

“Grandfather, this is Rey of Jedha. Rey, this is my grandfather—Anakin.”

Rey stammered, “It’s nice to meet you…should I bow or—I’m sorry. I don’t—“

Anakin cut off her babbling by pulling her into him. “I’m a hugger.” He pointed to the beads still clutched in Rey’s hands. “I see you figured out what those were for.”

Rey looked down at what she was holding. A string of freshwater pearls, the most perfect she’d ever seen. She tried to hand them back to Kylo. He took them but only to drape them and clasp them around her neck. “It’s alright,” he said. “He can make me another talisman. Something a bit more practical this time,” he said with a pointed look to his grandfather, who shrugged innocently. “If I didn’t know better I would say you were playing matchmaker up there on Olympus.”

Rey blushed at the implication as she fingered the pearls. She’d always wanted a necklace like this, had even begged Poe to bring her one. 

“I always prepare for the unexpected,” said Anakin. “Come, sit. Now, Rey of Jedha…there is something familiar about you. Who are your parents?”

Rey shrugged. “I don’t know, Sir.” Kylo squeezed her hand and instead of dropping it, pulled their joined hands to rest in his lap.

“That’s enough of the “Sir” business. You may call me Anakin. Has my grandson been behaving himself?”

Rey’s lips quirked, “More or less.”

They discussed how they’d come to meet and her life as a priestess. Anakin had promised to think on why she seemed familiar and told her that she could always come visit him as long as she had the pearls. Then, he’d left them…though she could still feel his presence in the air. She could almost see his reflection in the glare of the moon on the grotto water.

“Was it everything you expected?” Kylo asked.

“He’s wonderful. Everything I imagine a grandfather ought to be…except old. He’s not that.”

“Well, he’s ancient, but I know what you mean.” Kylo stood and pulled Rey to her feet. “Come on, we should go back.”

“Why?” She asked, suddenly bold. “Have you anything to do tomorrow?”

“I suppose I don’t,” he answered seeming a bit troubled by that.

“Good.” Before she could lose her nerve, Rey untied the wrap from her neck, letting it fall to the ground as she slipped into the shallow end of the grotto. She moved so quickly that Kylo couldn’t have had time to see much. She grinned in satisfaction at the scandalized look on his face. “I’ll never be good at swimming if I don’t practice,” she explained. “Coming warlord?”

“What have I done to you?” He said as he stripped off his tunic. He took considerably more time undressing and getting in the water. Rey didn’t watch—she was bold, but not shameless—not yet anyway. He waded the shallow end and moved into deeper water, pulling her along by the hand.

They swam for a bit. Rey even grew confident enough to let go of Kylo completely. Then, they got out and dressed in awkward silence. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Maybe she hadn’t expected anything. A part of her felt guilty. She was encouraging him…but every time he moved closer, she backed away. As much as she enjoyed his attention, she couldn’t quite bring herself to admit that she wanted him…that she _could_ betray her vows for him…one day.

That night, Kylo blew out the candles in the tent and laid down on the bed beside Rey. He didn’t ask permission, but once he was beside her he peered over and said, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” she said, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think it’s okay.” 

 


	8. Of Kittens and Captivity

“Thetis answered him then letting the tears fall: "Ah me,

my child, your birth was bitterness. Why did I raise you?

If only you could sit by your ships untroubled, not weeping,

since indeed your lifetime is to be short, of no length.

Now it has befallen that your life must be brief and bitter 

beyond all men's. To a bad destiny I bore you in my chambers” 

― [**Homer**](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/903.Homer), [**The Iliad**](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/3293141)

 

Ch 7:

Of Kittens and Captivity

 

Rey woke with the most pleasant feeling of being warm and safe. It took her a few blinking moments to remember the tent and that Kylo had slept beside her the night before. Panic flooded her body. Before her mind could catch up with her limbs, they shot out in all directions with surprising force. Kylo’s body pushed away from her and flopped off the side of the bed, landing with a heavy thud.

He was on his feet, half-asleep, arms up in fists ready to face his attacker. His sweat-slick black hair stuck to his head in odd patches. Like Rey, it took him a moment. He blinked at her, uncomprehending.

“Sorry,” she mumbled…though it served him right. She’d allowed him to share the bed, not grope her in the middle of the night…not that he’d been conscious of it anymore than she was. Still, she had her honor— though slightly tarnished at this point—to protect. Tarnish could be polished away. Stain could not. She could live with tarnish.

“Did I hurt you?”

“What? No…I just…I wasn’t expecting…” She trailed off, studying the furs that were currently shielding her body from view. They were much more interesting then the slightly hurt expression on his face.

Kylo unsettled her in the dark. When the sun was up he was all glares and weapons and buster…but in the moonlight he changed into something much more dangerous. He was kind, and surprisingly open. So unlike the warlord his reputation made him out to be.

He nodded and raked a hand through his wild, sleep mussed hair. He padded over to the washbasin and splashed his face. “I’m going to talk with my grandfather.”

“Do you want company?”

“No,” he said defensively.

Rey was silent.

Almost in apology he added, “I’ll be back before too long. Why don’t you see what Hux is doing? I’m sure he’d like the company. He’s alright if you can get passed his love of cats.”

Rey watched him dress and leave. She listened intently as he stepped outside, waiting to see if he’d post guards at the tent flaps…but he didn’t. She was on her own.

Rey flopped back on the bed, deciding to get a few more hours of sleep before contemplating what this new freedom meant. He trusted her enough to leave her unguarded. Should she break that trust by running away?

When she got up, they sun was high and the day’s battles already begun. Rey still wore the green wrap from the day before, which was now wrinkled from sleep. Maz still had her priestess robes, which she’d said she would mend. Rey couldn’t run off without those.

Rey found her way to the hearer’s tent. Maz was busy with an influx of wounded soldier’s from the day’s battle. She’d meant to get the robes and leave but somehow, she found herself helping to treat the less dire injuries while Maz did the stitching and re-locating of limbs.

Soon, her tentative thoughts of escape were forgotten. These men were suffering and dying before her eyes. Every minute that the battles raged she worried herself sick over Poe and Han…even Finn a bit, though there was also a bit of resentment toward the man who started this war.

Kylo, had been true to his word, he had not joined the battle. As far as Rey knew, he was still in the grotto with his grandfather. Rey knew it was selfish, but she was glad that he wasn’t fighting. It made her feel slightly less-guilty about her growing feelings toward the demigod. He wasn’t hurting her own people anymore and that was a start.

Perhaps, she wouldn’t run. Perhaps she could stay and convince him to run with her.

Hux joined them in Maz’s tent, claiming that he too needed to feel useful since he couldn’t fight. He really was pleasant company, though he seemed lonely without his best friend—another point of guilt for Rey. She’d been occupying most of Kylo’s time and so Hux was feeling ignored.

Rey had an idea…and it wasn’t going home.

It was still hours until sundown and the battles had been concluded for the day due to an impending storm. Wars were strange things, with codes of honor that seemed counterintuitive to Rey. Still, Kylo would be good and distracted…she could be gone and back before he noticed.

She slipped out of camp with one goal in mind—the stray cats that lived near the olive groves just outside of Jedha City. There were always cats there—she and Poe had gone to feed them regularly, though they weren’t allowed to keep them in the palace as Leia claimed an aversion. Rey was sure this was just an excuse but she didn’t press the issue. 

She stole across the sands, moving through the hidden roadways that only one who grew up in Jedha would know. When the walls were in sight, she stopped. Her heart ached in her chest. She’d made up her mind not to go home but now that she could see the city walls her certainty wavered.

What was she doing? She was half-way home. She could go home now and never look back. She’d be safe once more with her family. She’d never see Kylo again. Her hands moved of their own volition to the pearls she still wore.

Maybe, she could just go visit Poe. She could explain the situation and he’d let her go back to Kylo. Given time, she was sure she could convince Kylo to come with her to Jedha. He’d already vowed not to fight in the war. Maybe they could reach a compromise, he would leave the war behind and she would leave Jedha. She could always send word to her family once they were settled somewhere.

She almost laughed at herself. All these plans based on a man she had no relationship with. They weren’t lovers. They were hardly even friends. Technically, she was still his slave.

She was being ridiculous.

Poe was waiting for her.

Han, Leia, Finn…and Apollo.

Home.

Mind made up she stole toward the city with renewed speed. She could almost smell the incense burning in the palace halls, feel the silk of the sheets in her bed. Hear Poe’s laughter carrying through the dining hall. How had she almost forsaken this?

She reached the olive groves and ran, not caring that the ground was cutting the bare soles of her feet, not caring that the branches snagged on her newly mended white robes.

Not caring about the sound of her name being called from behind.

A hand clamped around her bicep and she stumbled backward with the force of it, taking her assailant down with her. When she recovered her senses she looked up at the person who’d fallen on top of her. Kylo?

“What are you doing here?” Rey demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he growled. None of the softness she’d seen at the grotto was present now. He was angry, hurt, even.

Rey hesitated for a beat. What could she say? She had no hope of going home now that she’d been caught…so, she lied. “I came to get a cat for Hux.”

Kylo reeled back, brows nearly meeting his hairline. “What? That’s a terrible lie—even for you.”

“Hux is lonely and I know a spot where feral cats gather…I was going to get him one,” Rey glared at him through narrowed eyes. “What do you mean _even for me_?”

“Only that you are a terrible liar.” Kylo pressed up on his palms, still looming over her.

“I thought you were with your grandfather. How did you know I’d left…and how did you know where I’d go? No one knows those roads.”

At that, he climbed to his feet, not quite meeting her eyes. “I came back and you weren’t in the tent. Some of the men in the watch posts saw you come this way.”

Speaking of terrible liars, Rey thought. They stared at one another in silence as Rey too got up.

“Did you really think I’d run off? After everything?” She would’ve, but she didn’t need him to know that.

“I asked you yesterday if you trusted me and you couldn’t give me an answer. So…how am I to trust you?”

Rey started walking toward the alcove in the rock, where the cats hid from the sun. “What exactly was your plan? To storm Jedha by yourself and drag me back to the camp?”

Kylo shrugged and sheepishly twisted his index finger around the braid behind his ear. He stopped walking when the soft mewl of cats filled the air. “You were telling the truth?”

Mostly, she thought. Instead of answering she dropped to her knees and peered under the large tan rock. Several cats trotted out to brush up against Rey’s side. A few of the braver ones even went for Kylo’s legs. Rey smiled in delight when two kittens stumbled out—one orange and one grey with white paws and black tipped ears. They blinked at the bright sunlight. “Oh, hello there. Aren’t you perfect?” She picked up the orange kitten and handed the grey one to Kylo, who looked thoroughly terrified of holding something so small.

“Which one will Hux like?”

Kylo frowned as the grey kitten licked his palm. “The orange one,” he said. “This one seems to have a taste for human flesh.”

“It likes you, you idiot.”

“Don’t you feel bad…taking them from their family?”

Rey stopped. She hadn’t really thought of that. “We will give them good lives,” she said, “They won’t starve or have to scavenge for food.”

“You do realize these are cats we’re talking about…and what do you mean we?” Kylo asked, cautiously patting the grey kitten’s ears. He fell into step beside Rey, who was already walking with the orange kitten through the groves. One adult cat trailed after them, keeping a safe distance.

Rey shrugged, “Unless Hux wants two kittens. I don’t know…it seemed weird to take one and not the other.”

Throughout the walk, Kylo grew more and more comfortable with the grey kitten. It was snuggled, purring in his palm. The sight of the warlord holding the tiny creature was almost comical. Rey giggled quietly.

Kylo shot her a withering glare, “Don’t you dare,” he warned.

“But it’s so cute.” Rey giggled harder. 

“You’ll pay for that,” he said sharply. “When you least expect it.”

This did not help her giggling and Kylo stomped ahead, sulking all the way back to camp.

* * *

Back at the camp, they put the kittens in their tent. Kylo froze at that. Since when did he consider it _their_ tent. He studied Rey as she bounded off excitedly to fetch Hux. He knew she was lying. She’d been trying to escape—though how she knew about the cats was beyond him.

A part of him was hurt by it. She’d chosen to run from him. He’d tried to trust her and give her some freedom and she’d run. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, if he was a prisoner he’d do anything in his power to escape, but that knowledge didn’t soften the blow to his pride any.

What had he known her now…three days? And here he was expecting miracles. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, reminding himself to be patient—though that was never his forte.

They found Hux in Maz’s tent. Rey grinned at the fair skinned man and said, “Hux, we have a surprise for you.”

“Kylo’s agreed to fight?” His pink lips set in a sarcastic smirk.

“Better,” said Rey. “You have to come with us.”

“Go on,” Maz said shooing them all out. “If you’re not helping you’re in the way.”

At the flaps of their tent, Kylo saw that the adult cat had followed them all the way back. She slunk along now, eyes sparkling with mischief as only a cat’s can do, as if she knew she was ruining the surprise.

Hux’s translucent skin flushed pink with excitement. He bent to pet the dark fur. “Rey, I—I can’t believe you remembered.”

“That’s not even the surprise,” Rey could hardly contain her excitement. It almost made Kylo forget that she’d tried to run from him not an hour before. She bounced her weight on the balls of her feet, grinning at him with shared secrets. 

She pulled him and Hux into the tent, allowing the black cat to slink in. She scooped up the kittens and held them out to his best friend. 

Hux took the orange kitten, as Kylo had known he would. “Kylo, were you involved in this?”

Kylo shook his head. “It was all Rey.”

Hux moved onto the grey kitten, scratching its ears too. “I could kiss you,” he said to Rey. “I won’t but—you’d better.” He winked at Kylo.

Kylo cast a glance at Rey who was looking anywhere but at him. The air in the tent suddenly felt stifling and close.

Hux cleared his throat, “Well, I can see you are not yet at the teasing stage of your relationship…and on that note, I think I will fetch Phasma to come meet our new furry companions.” He slipped out, cradling one of the kittens and promising the other that he’d be right back.

“Are we roasting fish for dinner?” Rey asked, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.

“If you’d like. Grandfather gave me quite a selection when I visited. Crabs, oysters…” Kylo trailed off, finally understanding the wink Anakin had given him when he handed over the oysters. To his horror, the warrior felt the tips of his ears burning. Was he blushing? He hadn’t blushed since he was ignorant gangly Ben.

Rey must not have understood any of it. She smiled and set about fetching a kettle to boil water. Kylo offered to fill it if only to get some fresh air away from Rey and _their_ tent.

When he returned, so too had Phasma and Hux with Maz in tow. Hux claimed the orange cat and dubbed it Bebe along with the older black cat—obviously the mother—whom he called Nyx. Maz volunteered to take the other kitten, much to Kylo’s relief. For Rey’s sake, he’d have allowed one to stay but the thought made him groan.

Rey was all smiles throughout dinner, laughing with Hux and Maz over some shared joke from the healer’s tent earlier that day. Blushing when she cracked a crab leg that squirted juice all over her and Kylo beside her.

Phasma was the only quiet one of the group, no doubt reliving the battle. Kylo didn’t envy her that. He’d asked her how the fighting went and she’d told him, grim-faced and judgmental. She was still angry that he refused to fight.

Kylo’s chest ached as he watched them all.

He’d almost lost Rey today. Almost lost her before he even really had her. That thought scared him more than he was prepared for it to. He’d allowed himself to forget for a few days that she was a prisoner here. That her home was in Jedha—with _his_ parents…whom he had no love for.

There was no future for them. Unless she would leave it all behind, and today she’d proved she wouldn’t.

He thought again of the prophecy. The reason he’d agreed to this war. Glory would be his but he would die for it, here on the lands of his youth. His name would live on forever, even if his body did not.

What he was doing to Rey was unfair. He had no future to give. The thread of his life was fraying with each passing minute.

Did the prophecy still apply if he turned his back on the war? If he turned his back on glory? Could he renounce his decision and choose life with this young priestess?

A question for which Anakin had had no answer.

They all laughed loudly about something and Kylo couldn’t stomach anymore. He got up and stormed out of the tent without a word to anyone. He went back to the grotto, not knowing where else to go. He sat with his head in his hands and that was how Rey found him.

“What was that about?” She asked.

“It’s nothing. Leave.”

“Is this about today?” She chewed her bottom lip. “I _was_ running back to Jedha. I wasn’t planning on coming back…but you already knew that.”

“Yes, I knew that. You’re a terrible liar, Priestess,” he sighed and stood, pacing the rocks.

“I won’t apologize for trying to go home…but for what it’s worth, I am sorry that I lied to you.”

“I’m not,” he said coming to a stop before her, so close he could see the way the moonlight ignited the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes, making them shine. On impulse, his hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear—small cute ears, not like his. His fingers burned where his skin touched hers and he recoiled at once, pushing his hands behind his back, as far from her as he could get them. “You trying to leave reminded me of what this really is,” he said. “You’re a prisoner and I’m…” he trailed off, unsure how much he wanted her to know. “I’m the one keeping you so,” he turned his back to her.

She drew up behind him, placing a hand on his forearm to stop him from walking away. “I’m not sorry that I met you,” she said, turning him around to face her. “I chose to love a god because I had never found anyone else that I _could_ love…I thought I never would. I’m not saying that I _do_ love you. Sometimes I’m not even sure I like you…but I think I could. One day. If things were different,” she retracted her hand, cheeks flushed as his own. “I have no idea why I told you that. It doesn’t change anything between us. I guess I just thought you should know that you are more than you give yourself credit for…you’re more than this war.”

Kylo gave a self-deprecating laugh. “My own parents couldn’t love me…how could you?”

“Because you haven’t given me a reason not to.”

* * *

Rey saw the change in his eyes, the moment he came back to her. He’d been in some dark place, unreachable…but she’d pulled him back. As soon as the words left her lips it happened.

“Because you haven’t given me a reason not to.”

She gazed into his eyes, so deep she thought she might fall in and never resurface. His lips slowly descended closer, closer, closer and then…he stopped. He sighed, letting his forehead rest against hers for the most agonizingly slow moment…and he was gone as if he’d never been there at all.

She watched him sit back on the rock to stare into the water. She was torn for a moment on whether to go to him or to leave him there. He’d certainly given her no reason to stay. She’d admitted more to him just now then she’d ever admitted to any man and he’d said nothing. Done nothing.

Had she really wanted him to do something? Was she so far gone?

She felt the white fabric of her freshly cleaned robes beneath her fingers and felt her anger retreat. No. She was not yet past the point of no return. She was grateful that he’d stopped.

There was no future for them. Every minute she remained his prisoner was proof of that.

In another life, perhaps. But never in this one.

She left him and went back to the tent where she curled into a ball on his bed. The others had left, recognizing that the evening had ended with Kylo’s fit. For the first time since her capture, Rey felt tears, hot and burning along the line of her lashes.

If she had stayed in the palace, none of this would’ve happened. She’d be safe in Jedha with Poe and Finn. If she'd only listened to her family, those who loved her, who had tried to keep her safe. She thought of Leia and Han. Had they grieved for her? Had they bothered to look?

She could only hope that word had reached King Luke in Lost City and that he was on his way now to put an end to this farce of a war.

She needs to pray. She shut her eyes, clutching the strand of pearls between her fingertips. She had no other channel to the gods at present and these were from Anakin…they would be as decent a holy relic as any.

She prayed to Apollo that he might aid the soldiers of Jedha…and she prayed to Aphrodite, that she might uncast whatever spell she’d thrust upon Rey that made her long for Kylo as she did.

With those prayers on her lips, she fell asleep, not even noticing when Kylo finally returned to sleep on the floor, as far from her as he could manage. 


	9. Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man this was a hard one to get right.

“ **Achilles…relented so far as to grant Patroclus his request to lead the Myrmidons**

 **to the field, and to lend him his armor, that he might thereby strike more terror into the minds of the Trojans.** ” 

― **Homer** , **The Iliad**

 

**Ch 8:**

**Proof**

 

Rey’s teeth chattered against the evening winds. It was growing colder night by night and all she had by way of clothing were her robes and the wrap Kylo had given to her, neither of which were particularly weather resistant.

Normally, she’d be huddled near a fire at this time of night, or buried in Kylo’s sprawling collection of furs…but tonight was an exception.

It was sunset and Rey found herself standing before a funeral pyre. The burning had been delayed due to rain, but now the skies were clear and the Greeks were out in force. Though, judging by the wind, the clear skies wouldn’t hold.

They had been having the strangest weather lately. Jedha was known for its sun, hence its worship of Apollo. Rain and clouds were as foreign to these shores as the Greek armies. It was a sign from the Gods, she was sure.

Rey could hardly see Bazine’s body on the tall pyre—it was just a vague shape, wrapped head to toe in muslin, face exposed. There was an air of solemn silence in the crowd. Even if Bazine’s own people weren’t overly fond of her, death had a way of bringing out the best in those left behind, at least for the sake of the funeral games.

Snoke was attending from his ship. He looked on from a distance, refusing to actually take part in the proceedings.

“Snoke thinks the weather is a punishment from Apollo. He’s superstitious,” said Hux as he sidled up to Rey. She hadn’t asked, but it was what everyone around her was whispering about. Hux draped a blanket around Rey’s shoulders and she gratefully hugged it around her shivering frame.

She smiled at Kylo’s childhood friend, a man she was coming to consider her friend as well. Days spent assisting Maz in the healer’s tent or taking care of the kittens brought them closer together. Rey supposed war brought everyone closer together as well.

It had been a week since her ill-fated escape attempt. She and Kylo hadn’t discussed that day any further…and they seemed to have arrived at a non-verbal agreement that they never would. In fact, Rey hadn’t seen much of Kylo that entire week, except at night when he returned to the tent. He’d gone back to sharing the bed with her but had remained distant in every other way. When he wasn’t glaring, he was sulking and if not either of those things he was actively engaging in conversation with his knights and avoiding Rey altogether.

“Who will light the pyre if Snoke won’t do it?” Rey asked.

Hux just quirked one rosy brow.

Rey almost gasped when she saw Kylo climbing the ladder to the pyre in Snoke’s place. The warlord wore a black tunic around his waist and a matching vest that left most of his muscled, alabaster chest exposed. His black hair shone against the light from the torch in his hands. Rey noticed a new silver charm dangling from the braided section behind his left ear. A gift from Anakin most likely. He was magnificent in all black. He was Hades himself up there on that pyre and Rey had never longed to hold him more.

Her heart beat faster and her breath caught in her throat. It was a reaction she was no longer trying to fight. She had just accepted it as the way of things.

He entered the room— she forgot how to breathe.

It was a natural thing that happened sometimes between two people. It didn’t mean she was any less devout, any less a Priestess.

Kylo bent over Bazine’s body. His lips moved in speech although his words were swallowed up by the night. He placed two gold coins for the boatman on Bazine’s eyes and turned his broad back.

Kylo didn’t stay to watch the pyre burn. He tossed the torch on the kindling, made a rude gesture at Snoke and stalked like the wild beast he was back to the tent.

“So, he’s mad at you too?” Hux eyed Rey askance.

“I don’t think it’s anger…I think it’s resignation,” she said. “He seems like he’s made up his mind about something. I just can’t figure out what.”

“Ah,” Hux nodded, “It’s the prophecy, then.”

“What prophecy? Is it about him?”

Hux nodded, eyes still on the rising flames. They reflected in his glass blue eyes making him look almost possessed. “I don’t know the details of it—ask Anakin if you want specifics. Basically, it implies that Kylo will die here in Jedha. That this war will be his glory and his doom.”

Rey felt her breath hitch in her throat, which was already raw from inhaling the smoke of the pyre. So, that was what it was all about? He was pushing her away because he had one foot in the grave—or so he thought. 

Prophecy. What a preposterous idea. Rey had never believed in that nonsense…then again, she’d never seen a god until a few days ago…Anakin was real enough.

“You’ve known him a long time?” Rey asked.

“Since we were children. Why?” Now, Hux turned to regard her.

“Has he always been so temperamental?”

Hux laughed. “Worse. I think you’ve been good for him. He’s been more tamed since we arrived here then I’ve seen him in years. Though, that could be down to…” He abruptly pressed his lips into a thin line, muscle twitching in his jaw.

“Down to what?”

Hux shook his head. “We don’t have to stay to watch this. I know you hated her…I did too if I’m honest. Why don’t we go see about some wine? I could use a drink after the week we’ve had.”

“Down to what, Hux?” He walked away and she was forced to follow.

“Wine!” He repeated to each of her further inquiries.

They drew nearer to the tree line and Hux veered toward his own tent. “Coming?” He looked expectantly at Rey.

Her teeth caught her bottom lip. She glanced at the tent where Kylo was sulking. “I’ll be there in one minute…I just need to—“

The change in Hux’s face was almost imperceptible. He was obviously practiced at hiding his emotions. “Oh, right,” he said just on the edge of hearing. He let out a soft chuckle and walked away shaking his head. Rey briefly wondered what events in his life had taught him to hide.

* * *

Kylo heard her enter the tent. He considered leaving but realized leaving would require moving and he was not in the mood for that. He took another drink and waited as she sat across from him.

She wanted to say something, he could feel it radiating from her. He knew if he waited long enough she’d blurt it out. Just because he couldn’t have her didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy goading her a bit.

“You’re avoiding me because of a prophecy?” Her tone was incredulous. It wasn’t a tone he was used to hearing directed at him. Men in forty countries were terrified of Kylo Ren but this slip of a girl dared to mock him.

He turned his head and almost laughed. His little Priestess sat cross-legged with her arms folded over her chest and her bottom lip jutted out in petulance, like a child who'd had her favorite toy taken away. His anger subsided.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he said.

“Then, what do you call this?” She waved her hands at the wine flagon and collection of empty glasses from the past week.

Kylo shrugged and continued drinking. 

“Do you want to tell me about the prophecy?”

He scoffed. “Hux been running his mouth again? In answer to your question, no, I don’t want to tell you.”

“You think you’re going to die…is that it? You think you’re going to die so you are pushing me away. Are you afraid someone might actually care about you?”

“I don’t need anyone to mourn for me,” He looked at her again to find that she was sitting on her knees, leaning forward so they were eye to eye. “Least of all you.”

Her top lip pulled back her teeth in a small sneer. It was an upsetting sight, her sneering at him. It was wrong. Her lips, he decided were made for smiling and he hated the small pang of guilt when she did anything but that.

“That terrifies you doesn’t it?” She said. “Having someone to light the pyre. Someone to weep when you’re gone. You know, the ridiculous part of this argument is that I’m not asking you for anything more than civil behavior. You’ve taken my freedom, the least you can do is treat me with some respect. Don’t just pretend I don’t exist.”

“I took your freedom. It will always come back to that. Fine. Go. You’re free.” Kylo stood up, putting some distance between them. If she decided to call his bluff and walk out of the tent now, he couldn’t bear to see it.

To his surprise, she didn’t. She rose and came toward him. “Admit that you’re afraid.”

He bit his lip to stop the cynical laughter tickling his throat. He rounded on her, aware for the first time of how much shorter she was. He towered over her. He felt intimidating…and for the first time in his life, it was not the way he wanted to feel…not towards her. “What about you, Priestess?” He said, gently as he could manage. “You chose to love a God for the exact same sins you accuse me of. Couldn’t bear to have someone love you, someone to care about you…so you loved a god. I think you’ll find the romance woefully one-sided.”

She leaned closer again, so close that he could smell his own stolen lavender oil in her hair. There was no space left for her to encroach on. Any closer and she would simply meld into him. Her voice dropped to a calm even level. “You’re trying to provoke me to avoid answering my questions. It won’t work.”

He could count each freckle that dusted her cheeks, now. A smile pulled at his lips watching the way her nostrils flared as she fought to keep herself calm. He couldn’t blame her. He was anything but calm himself. His body reacted to hers and he had simply no say in it. Warmth radiated between them. One brush of her fingers and he was sure he'd fall apart. He swallowed hard, hating how badly he needed her to touch him, how badly he needed to touch her. He clenched his fists at his sides to keep from reaching for her.

With as much conviction as he could muster, he said, “I fear nothing, Priestess. Not the gods. Not love. Not death…and certainly not you.”

“Prove it.”

“Rey—“

“Prove! It!” She braced her palms flat against the planes of his chest and she pushed him. He blinked in surprise, utterly at a loss for a moment. She pushed him. He needed her to touch him, but that wasn't what he had in mind. So, it would be war then?

He stepped back into her space. Her eyes were narrowed, teeth bared, fists clenched. He silently applauded her self-control. She had more than he did. At this point, he couldn’t even remember what they were arguing about.

He hadn’t planned what happened next. It was his body's reaction to the warmth of her near, the smell of the lavender oil she’d stolen from his collection, the echo of her words from the night in the grotto in his ears… _because you haven’t given me a reason not to._

He took her face in his hands, spreading his fingers across her cheeks and around the back of her ears, marveling at the way his fingers spanned nearly her whole head. He gently rubbed the pads of his thumbs back and forth along her cheekbones. She froze, pupils dilating, lips parting with a soft,  _Oh!_  

In one violent motion, he forced her lips to his.

* * *

His lips were hard and insistent, pulling at hers, begging her to answer. His hands cradled the back of her head, anchoring her so that she couldn’t have run if she’d wanted to.

She struggled for a moment, but his grip was firm and his lips bruising. So, she did the only thing she could think to do. She bit down. He jerked back, panting at her, a trickle of blood appearing on his lip. His tongue darted out to lick it away. He seemed to savor the taste of the blood. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and her stomach clenched with need.

A visible change took over his face. His dark eyes widened, the lines of his face sharpened. There would be no escaping him now. No stopping him. Every nerve in her body was at war. She wanted to slap him and to devour him. She wanted to run to the safety of the temple...and to rip her priestess robes off her body and stamp them into the mud. She wanted both things so much, she felt she'd be torn in two.

Her eyes never left his, she couldn't look away. He stood before her panting and feral and undeniably enticing. She took a step toward him. Just one small step, but there was something so final about it. If she did this, there would be no going back from it. He would consume everything that she was...and she was ready.

Her eyes were open when their lips met for the second time. When he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, they drifted closed. 

She’d never kissed anyone before. Not even her family. Her mind flashed back to Poe’s words from the last time she saw him. _“I think you just haven’t found the right man…you wouldn’t be so quick to give it up if you knew what you were missing.”_

Gods, but he had been right because at that moment as Kylo parted her lips with his tongue she knew that she would fight for this. She would fight for him, consequence be damned. All the conflicting desires melted away and all that was left in their place was one single desire-- him. It coiled in the pit of her stomach, radiating down to the apex of her thighs. Her skin tingled with it, her breath hitched with it.

Her movements were shy at first, but Kylo didn’t seem put off by it. He was doing more than enough for the both of them.

He tilted her head back, deepening the kiss, exploring her tongue with his own. His hands moved down her body to clutch at the soft fabric covering her hips. He balled the fabric between his fingers. Cold air tickled her skin as he pushed the robes higher and higher, inch by inch up her thighs to her hips. His lips went to her jaw and down the column of her throat leaving a warm trail of kisses. A groan escaped her lips. Rey felt him smile against the place where her neck met her shoulder. He smiled before he bit down, just hard enough to sting.

"Oh," She sighed and tangled her fingers in the thick waves of his hair, as she had longed to do since she first saw him without his armor on. It was like silk as it slid against her skin. She tugged his lips back up to hers, reveling at the way they moved on her own. He tasted of blackberries and wine. She'd nearly forgotten that her robes were pushed up around her hips until his hands found her ass and squeezed, forcing her hips closer to his so that she could feel every inch of his body's reaction. 

He didn't press further, content to kiss her for now. The kiss went on without end. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. They stood, pressed together, exploring each other in this new way. The fabric of her skirt bunched up over her hips, his hands kneading her backside, not venturing further.

She tore her lips away to whimper, "Kylo, please." She couldn't believe she was begging him for anything. His ego was swollen enough as it was but the pressure building in her groin grew with each move of his lips and if he didn't move those hands of his soon she was sure she'd die of it.

Finally, his hands released her behind. One hand traveled to her lower back as the other traveled lower, over the globe of her cheek and slowly toward her aching center. His fingertip brushed the wet curls there. 

New sensations flooded her. Feelings she’d only heard about from the palace maids in passing. She was aware of everything, her breathing, his breathing, his muscles, how solid they were beneath her exploring fingers. The way his cock pressed against her, only the thin fabric of his tunic separating them. She wanted to rip the tunic off and look at him, study him, explore him.

She'd seen his manhood several times. Kylo, as it turned out, was a bit of an exhibitionist...or maybe he just liked making her blush. In any case, the times she'd seen it she'd tried not to look. But now, with it pressed between them, it was hard to ignore.

Kylo was in a similar state. Panting breaths escaped him in the fleeting moments when their lips weren’t fused together. His finger slowly traced the seam between her legs, finally pressing a bit further, dipping inside of her.

If ever there was a jolt back to reality, that was it. Not that she was afraid…she wanted this…or at least, she did _now_.

Ten minutes ago she hadn’t…and now she did. And if that wasn’t the most confusing thing ever then she didn’t know what was.

“Kylo,” she breathed against his lips. “I…”

He pulled away, trying to steady his breathing. He rested his forehead against hers and anchored his hands on her hips. Her core immediately ached with the loss of contact. "I wasn't telling you to stop," she said as casually as she could manage. She couldn't have him knowing that she was about to melt into a puddle at his feet.

He grinned. "Be patient, Priestess. I don't want this to be over too quickly."

His fingers came up to play along her collarbone and down to the shallow hollow at the base of her throat. She closed her eyes, enjoying the tenderness of the moment. Then, she heard the audible rip and the front of her robe fell open.

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. How dare he rip her sacred garment? The curses she had ready were swallowed up by his tongue. He slipped his hands under the fabric, ghosting the tips of his fingers up her ribs until they reached her breasts. He pinched her peaked nipples and she tore her lips free to let out a gasp.

Rey fought for control of her own. She trailed her nails up his exposed chest, hard enough to leave red marks on his white skin. He let out a low chuckle that rumbled against her chest, "Like it rough, do you, Priestess?" He pinched her nipples harder.

"Don't call me that now." She bit down on his shoulder, just hard enough to make him falter. In response, he pushed the split robe off her shoulders completely. It pooled in a cloud-like puddle at her feet. She was naked before him--not for the first time, she reminded herself.

Rey's fingers found the knot the held his tunic around his waist. She pulled at it violently. His movements softened. He pulled back and nuzzled his nose against hers before gently gripping her hands and stopping their assault on the knot at his waist.

“Oh no, you don't. If I'm going to be completely exposed so are you.“

“Shh,” it was an order and Rey obeyed, though who could say why. Apparently, their silent battle was done. His armor was gone and he was all gentleness now.

He stepped back just enough to look at her. Inch by inch, his dark eyes took her in. He circled her, a predator evaluating his prey. As he circled, his fingers traced her thighs, over her hips, around the curve of her backside, up the slope of her waist, over the curve of her breasts, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She could feel the patterns he traced around her nipples and along each rib as if they were carved in stone; as if they'd be tattooed on her skin for all eternity.

Her eyes clamped shut, unable to bear the look of awe he directed at her.

She tried to cling to that flash of anger that had given her the courage to start this…but it had been replaced by longing and she wasn’t sure what to do with that. She longed to touch him. Her fingers twitched at her sides, aching to reach for him...but she didn't. She waited.

There was no movement or sound for a long stretching moment. He was so quiet, she thought he might’ve left the tent.

Then, she felt his fingers under her chin. He tilted her jaw up toward his face. “Rey, open your eyes.”

His eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, Pupils dilated. But his voice was soft, “We don’t have to do this tonight. We have time.”

She could’ve laughed. Time was what they certainly did _not_ have. That was what it all boiled down to. This was stolen time. Everything about their relationship was resting on stolen moments.

She studied his face. Dark eyes framed by enviable black lashes, straight Greek nose, full pouted lips, angular jaw. He was possibly the most graceful man she’d ever seen. It was hard to reconcile his appearance with the brutality she knew he was capable of.

There was nothing brutal in him now. He was before her, willing to be hers…maybe he already was hers as she was irrevocably his. 

“No, we don't have time,” she said. “Don’t ask me again. Just tell me. Tell me what to do.”

His kiss was softer now. His lips explored hers, learning all the ways they moved and felt. His tongue pressed past the barrier of her lips, gliding and tangling with hers.

Rey grew more and more confident in her ability each time he let out a small gasp or quick tremble.

At some point, he began to guide her back toward the bed. The backs of her knees hit the edge and she toppled backward, landing on the soft furs. He stood over her looking down, face unreadable. She felt her cheeks flushing and tried to cover herself but he didn’t let her.

He bent down and took hold of her hands, pulling her up so she was sitting before him. Slowly, he guided her fingers back to the knot that tied his tunic around his waist. He stood eerily still as she fumbled with the knot. "You couldn't have tied a simple knot?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be untying it but me."

"You could help me," Rey frowned up at him, frown deepening at his amused smile.

"But it's so much more fun to watch."

Finally, it came loose. Rey let out a little cheer of victory. She unwrapped the fabric, pausing before it fell away completely.

She'd seen this specific part of his anatomy before, at the river and the grotto, though she had tried her best to keep her eyes away from it.

There was no avoiding it now. She felt it beneath the fabric, jutting proudly toward her, begging for attention.

With a gulp she removed her hands, looking up at his face rather than what she was now eye level with.

That was it, there were no barriers between them now. Again, this had happened before, but it was so much more intimate now. More terrifying.

Thankfully, he chose to end her torment and pushed her back against the bed so he could climb on top of her. 

"You're adorable," He said as his lips went to suck on her earlobe.

She squirmed beneath the weight of his body, realizing for the first time that she was ticklish there. "Adorable is not a word I would associate with what we are about to do."

"Would you like me to call you something else," he asked with only a bit of laughter behind his words. As he spoke, his calloused hands moved up her thighs, teasing the soft skin, but staying away from the one place that she knew they wanted to go. "Beautiful, perhaps? Sinful?" His lips continued their own exploration of her jaw and down to her collarbone before settling at her breasts. Teasing her nipples with his teeth. "Sensual...I like that one."

Some part of her mind was mortified at the sounds he was drawing out of her. It was unladylike to be sure, and certainly enough to have made the other Priests faint. She shut that train of thought down. There would be time to lament the loss of her honor later, but this was not that time.

Kylo seemed thoroughly occupied at her breast, so she did some exploring of her own. She traced the muscles and grooves of his arms, his shoulders, the sides of his ribcage that she could reach. She paused at each scar to wonder what stories they told. From this position, she couldn't reach much more of him. He really was too tall. She tugged at his hair and his lips came away from her breast with a pop. He looked at her quizzically. "Too much?"

She shook her head, finding that her voice was not working. In place of words, she wriggled her hips a bit, letting out a soft whimper. He seemed to understand. He used his thigh to pry her legs apart, settling his leg between hers. His hands, which were still kneading her thighs paused and trailed to the spot that now ached in ways she didn't know it could. The ache was almost painful and he hadn't even touched her yet. That did not calm her nerves for what was to come.

He propped himself on one arm while his other traveled between her legs. His fingers went back to the seam, making long soft sweeps as they had before. He was gentle when he pushed them further, splitting her open. He found a spot at the top that made her cry out. She was briefly embarrassed. He'd been with other women before. Were they better at this? Should she be touching him too?

"You're thinking too loud," His voice was warm and soothing against her ear. 

Her body stilled and she said, "I don't know what to do."

"You'll learn." He finally slipped a finger all the way inside and she winced at the unfamiliar intrusion. Her nails dug into his shoulders. "Does it hurt?"

She nodded, eyes still clamped shut. He moved his finger slowly in and out while his thumb made small circles against that same sensitive spot. "I've wanted this since I first saw you," he said.

With each slow movement of his fingers, the pain eased. Her body began to unravel beneath his, the tension finally leaving. A new tension rose in its place. It felt like lightening connected the spot where his thumb was circling all the way to the soles of her feet. She had no idea that a man's body could make hers sing like this. Or was it just Kylo's? The things he did to her, things she was letting him do...she'd never even dared imagine such things. It had seemed so dirty when she heard people speak of it, but it wasn't dirty. Not now, not with him.

His fingers moved faster. "Oh..." she gasped as the feeling grew. She could no longer be still. She writhed and clutched her fingers in the furs beneath her, arms splayed wide.

When she felt her body clutch around his fingers she screamed out all sorts of incoherent things. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she found him watching her, smiling lightly. He brushed away the hair that was stuck to her forehead. "I can't decide what to call you since you won't let me call you priestess."

"Why not Rey?"

"Because everybody calls you Rey." He settled between her legs. "I want a name that only I can use." He didn't kiss her as he lined himself up at her entrance. Instead, he was utterly silent, his eyes locked with hers so that there could be no doubt about what was happening between them.

"We'll think of something." She memorized everything about this moment, everything about him. They might not have any time. They might not get more than this, and she wasn't going to forget anything about it.

"Yes, we will." He pressed forward in one quick motion.

The pain was so much worse than she imagined. She felt stretched and filled in a way that was foreign and odd. He stilled inside her, giving her a moment to recover. Slowly, his lips descended to caress hers. She focused on his lips rather than the screaming pain where they were joined.

His kiss grew more and more distracting until the other pain became a dull ache. Slowly, he pulled back and eased forward again. It still bit but not as bad as it had a first. Kylo groaned, finally relaxing, as though he'd been holding in all his reaction for her sake. He buried his face against her neck as his hips found a steady rhythm. Rey's hips began to rise to meet his. The sound of his breath in her ear made her smile. Such a simple sound but so intimate. 

Each time he entered her, the tension grew and grew until she couldn't keep still. She raked her nails down his back and wrapped her legs around his hips, clinging to him as if he was the only solid thing in the world.

"Rey," Kylo panted "What have you done to me?"

He was about to say more but she forced him to kiss her once more. She clamped her eyes shut as light began to explode behind her eyes. He reached down and grabbed hold of her thigh, dragging her leg up higher on his waist, allowing him a deeper angle.

With one last thrust, she cried out his name. She felt him explode inside her. His shoulders trembled where she gripped them. His hips stilled. Their chests heaved in tandem.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and found him watching her, a look of uncertainty there. 

"Kylo?" She reached up to brush his hair off his forehead. "What is it?"

"Are you going to hate me tomorrow?"

"Not unless you give me a reason to."

He let out a breath as he rolled to her side. She turned to face him. "Poe was right," she mused as she traced her fingers along his bottom lip.

"What was he right about?"

"He said I only became a priestess because I didn't know what I was giving up. Now, I know. And he was right. I won't give this up."

Kylo's smile was haunted, "I'm a dead man, Rey. I'm not meant to survive this war."

"We'll see about that," she said with a grin. 

* * *

Hux strolled, wine bottle in hand, to his best friend’s tent. The sight that greeted him when he pushed back the flaps was possibly the last thing he had expected…and he was unprepared for the stab of betrayal it caused.

He only watched for a moment, just long enough to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, he let the tent flap fall back into place and he stalked away.

Phasma was in her own tent, idly grazing on her dinner tray, reading from one of her many philosophy texts. Hux invited himself in, plopping down beside her and staring into the fire.

“Something on your mind?” Phasma asked without looking up from the book.

“It’s just…what does Kylo think he’s doing? I’ve never seen him like this. He lives for battle…and he’s just letting it pass him by.”

Phasma’s intelligent eyes twinkled in the firelight. “Jealousy does not suit you Armitage—yes, I know your given name. I know everyone’s secrets.”

Hux raked a hand through his shaggy hair, grown longer in the days since Jedha. “He has to fight. Someone has to remind him of what he is, what he was born for. He is to be the greatest war hero in a thousand years. Immortal.”

“I know that, but even that is a choice. No one can make that choice for him. If he chooses a quiet life of love…well, I can’t stop him.”

“Yesterday, you said that you had a plan to get him back in the fight.”

Phasma nodded, “I do.”

“Let’s hear it then,” Hux helped himself to a square of cheese and settled again the cushion.

“All we need is one major victory to turn the tide of the battle. Kylo may not want to fight—but the knights of Ren do. So, all we need is someone to lead them. If we can’t have Kylo, the Knights are the next best thing.”

“What do you mean someone to lead them? Kylo won’t give up his command.”

Phasma smiled, “If those men saw a man in Kylo’s armor stalking, sword in hand, toward the fray…do you really think they would stop to question him?”

“You want to steal his armor?” Hux smiled at the deviousness of the plan, “Who did you have in mind?”

Phasma quirked a fine brow, grinning so her white teeth peeked out. “You.”

Hux recoiled. Watching someone else betray his best friend was one thing…but playing the role of betrayer was something else.

“No. I couldn’t. I agree he should fight…but I can’t be the one to…”

“To remind him of what he is? Weren’t those your words?”

“He’d never forgive me.”

“He will never forgive himself if this war passes him by.”

Hux stared at the fire, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

Phasma set the book aside. “Hux, I have been in meeting with Snoke. Believe me, the High King’s plan is far worse than mine. We need to save Kylo from himself before it’s too late. Snoke’s patience is wearing thin.”

* * *

Kylo lay awake long after Rey had fallen asleep. He propped himself up on his elbow, watching her chest rise and fall in slow tempo. He grazed his fingers over the jutting hip bones beneath her golden skin and down to the dark hair below them. She was skinny. Weren’t his parents feeding her in that palace? He smiled at the string of freshwater pearls around her neck. He'd left those on. They suited her. Another sign that in one way or another she belonged in his life.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice startled him. He looked away from her fascinating hips. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She flashed a sleepy smile in response.

“I like these,” he said grazing her hips once more, this time with a trail of kisses. “And these.” He moved to the undersides of her breasts. "And this." His fingers touched her center and she hissed.

"Sore," she said through clenched teeth.

"Sorry." He pressed a gentle kiss there and moved back up to lie beside her. His fingers idly toyed with her breasts, circling the pink nipples. This was usually the point when he left or kicked the girl out. This intimacy...touching her just because he could, not because of any sexual agenda was both new and welcome. He didn't ever want to do anything else.

“My turn," she said. "I like these.” Her smaller fingers brushed his hair aside to reveal his ears.

He grimaced. “Why? My ears are horrible. Yours are much nicer.”

"I think they are cute."

"Cute, she says," He rolled his eyes and stretched out so all of his chiseled body was on display. "I don't appreciate that word. Cute. Kittens are cute. I am not. Is there nothing else you like?"

"Your humility...I  _love_ that," She kissed the side of his neck. Her smile faded and her hazel eyes turned serious again. Kylo knew that look...it meant she had something important to say. He wasn't sure why, but he felt the urge to run. He didn't want this night to be ruined with all the things they probably needed to say.

“Would you leave this all behind?”

Well, that wasn't as bad as what he'd been expecting. He didn’t ask her to clarify, he knew what she meant. It was all he’d thought about as he made love to her. How could they be together? What chance was there for them? He sat up so his back was propped against the tent wall. After a long moment, he said, “Would you leave Jedha?”

She got up as well and crawled into his lap, her legs folded on either side of his hips, her arms around his neck. In this position, they were eye to eye for once. “Yes,” she said. “I would. For you, I’d leave. As if I’d have a choice now.”

Kylo kissed her to put an end to the discussion. He trailed his hands down her back, grabbing hold of her ass so he could press her into his already swelling manhood. He lifted her slightly and settled her back down on his cock. Rey gasped and tossed her head back, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her. He gave her a moment to adjust before guiding her up and down slowly.

"Asteri tis zois mou," it was a phrase his mother had once whispered to him. Star of my life. It seemed fitting now because Rey was that. A star, lighting up what had always been a dark life. If she heard him she didn't acknowledge it.

He watched her face as she rode him, and all the while, he made plans. Plans to leave Jedha with Rey. Plans to settle somewhere out of the way where no one would ever find them.

* * *

Hux was alone on the hill in the forest the next morning, assuming his sparring partner was otherwise occupied by things he could only imagine. He was surprised when Kylo turned up just after sunrise.

Kylo patted Hux on the back. He wore a goofy smile on his face, one that Hux had never seen before. In fact, he’d never seen him so at ease, even as a child. A part of him died then because he knew he’d lost him…he knew Phasma was right.

“Good morning, Hux.”

“You’re in a good mood today…why?”

“Must there be a reason?”

“With you, yes,” Hux set his practice sword on a rock and leaned back against another, folding his arms and watching his friend.

Kylo sighed and ran a hand through his black waves. “Alright, if you must know, I’ve made a decision. I am leaving.”

Hux’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Kylo shrugged, eyes taking in the horizon. He looked a god again. In those moments when he was pensive he became the statue Hux imagined would one day be carved for him. He was something regal and otherworldly. “I thought I could do it. Face my death without regret…but I can’t. If I died now, there would be regret.”

“Rey.”

“Rey,” Kylo agreed. “I want more time with her. I want time away from war.”

“When will you leave?”

“Not for a few days. The weather has been unpredictable. But I will tell the men to ready the ships.”

“Snoke will see. He won’t just let you leave.”

Kylo said nothing. He laid a hand on Hux’s shoulder and squeezed. “You have been like a brother to me…and I haven’t always returned the favor as I should’ve. I’m sorry for that, Hux. I hope you will allow me to be the friend you deserve.” He walked off down the hill, in the direction of the grotto.

Hux too left the hill, but he went to seek out Phasma. As he neared her tent, he passed by Rey in tears. Yesterday, he might’ve chased after her in concern…but the sun rose today on a changed Hux. He had a duty to his country and to his friend.

What had Phasma said? Save Kylo from himself.

“Phase?” He said as he stepped into the tent. “I’ll do it.”


	10. Rain

“We are all there, goddess and mortal and the boy who was both.” 

― **Miller, _Song of Achilles_**

 

**Ch 9:**

**Rain**

 

Phasma thought back to the first time they’d sparred. Rey seemed to be more comfortable with her weapon than any beginner ought to be.

It was god given talent, of that she was sure…but which god? Why?

There were so many questions surrounding Rey of Jedha…but Phasma was certain of one thing. Rey of Jedha was a bad influence on Kylo of Ren. 

Kylo had never bowed out of a fight in his life—let alone sat out the most historic war of his generation. Kylo lived to fight. He breathed blood and fed of the souls of them men he slaughtered…at least thats what the bards sang of him.

It wasn’t that Phasma disliked Rey on a personal level. The priestess was kind and thoughtful and entertaining, if a bit naive. It didn’t matter how much Phasma did or did not like Rey. It boiled down to one thing.

Phasma was a Queen first and a person second.

Every day that Kylo refused to fight due to his bruised ego…men died. Phasma’s men.

How long could she herself outrun the rain of arrows on the battlefield?

She’d survived as long as she had by solving problems when they presented themselves. She’d seen more wars than most her age and come away with little more than a scratch…and she’d be damned if she was going to stop now.

Rey of Jedha had to go. Nothing personal…and Phasma had just the right card up her sleeve to make it happen.

* * *

He was gone when Rey woke. It was the first time he _hadn’t_ stayed to watch her sleep. In light of the night they’d had, Rey found it odd. She sat up, wincing slightly.

The tent was dark and lonely, her body ached, and her priestess robes lie torn on the ground near the foot of the bed. What had she done?

She supposed it was just as well he’d torn them. It wasn’t as if she could wear them now. Not now that she had given herself to Kylo. She rolled onto her stomach and stretched her arms out to snatch up the robes. She held up the tattered shards of her vows. With a sigh, she tossed them across the tent. Out of sight.

She still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what she’d done. How had it escalated so quickly? She’d only meant to confront him and the next thing she knew…but it felt so right at the time. He was so strong and yet so gentle. So fierce, yet he could be so tender. A contradiction in every sense…and she supposed that suited him…for, his entire existence was a contradiction.

There were Gods and there were mortals…and there was Kylo, who was both.

She climbed out of bed, as the first rays of sun poked through the gaps in the tent’s construction. She stared in horror at the bloodstains on the blanket she’d slept on. Maybe she’d just take that blanket down to the water to wash it. She bundled it up and wrapped the green tunic around her body.

Then, she carried the blanket out with her. Her path to the water took her past Maz’s tent. She paused. Maybe the healer had something to ease the soreness…that thought led to another more serious concern.

Her moon cycle.

She hadn’t even thought of that. A war was no place for a child. Yes, a visit to Maz was most definitely in order, as soon as she finished washing the blankets.

It was at the beach that Phasma approached her. The Queen claimed she’d just wanted to chat with Rey, but the full armor she wore suggested otherwise.

“Did you need something?” Rey tried unsuccessfully to hide the blanket behind her back.

“I just wanted to have a talk with you about our mutual demigod friend.”

“What about him?” Rey asked, turning away to set the blanket on the sands. Maybe, if she kept her back turned, the Queen would get the hint and leave. Rey liked her well enough, but washing the blood from her blanket was not something that required an audience.

Phasma sat beside Rey, where she crouched with the blanket. Rey huffed, realizing Phasma wasn’t going anywhere.

“Has Kylo spoken to you much about his past?”

“No,” Rey said, curious now, in spite of herself. Phasma’s ability to always say the one thing that made a person salivate with curiosity amazed Rey. It was a true talent not to be taken lightly.

“Only that he left home very young and never went back,” said Rey.

Phasma nodded sagely. “And you live in the palace in Jedha? You know Leia and Han well?”

“Yes.” Rey set to work wetting the blanket in the tide as it rushed close to the shore.

“Have they ever spoken to you of their son—their true born son?”

Rey’s hands faltered. “A few times. It isn’t something they like to talk about.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

Rey studied the woman who claimed to be Kylo’s friend. She had an open honest face, but sharp eyes, nearly as sharp as her tongue. Rey abandoned the blanket and turned to fully face her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you deserve to know what you’re getting yourself into. I think you of all people deserve to know this, considering your foster parents are your lover’s biological parents. That seems to qualify as something important, wouldn’t you say?”

“No,” Rey shook her head. “He can’t be…”

“Ben? Oh yes, he can…and he is.”

“But Kylo said his mother was a goddess before she married his father. That would mean that Leia…”

“Is Anakin’s daughter. Yes.”

“But Leia and Han are wonderful…Kylo would never run from…why would Kylo choose Snoke over them?”

“You will have to ask him that,” Phasma said. “Even I don’t have access to all of his thoughts. Shocking I know.” Phasma placed her larger hand over Rey’s were it rested in the sand. “Look, Rey. I am not trying to hurt you by telling you this. I am the one who encouraged Kylo to claim you. I _do_ think you are good for him. But, he must join this war. Too many lives are at steak if he doesn’t. It’s his destiny. Do you understand?”

Rey nodded, though her throat closed over any words that might have been said. Blanket forgotten, she rose and left the beach with a quick, “Excuse me,” to Phasma.

* * *

He was in the tent when Rey returned. Sitting there, lyre cradled in his lap, fingers coaxing out a faint tune, as if he hadn’t shattered what little trust they had built between them.

“Ben?” Said Rey, lip trembling. When his head shot up, she had her answer. Her hand covered her mouth. “So, it’s true?”

He went back to playing. Face hardening.

“Ben?” Rey took a step into the tent. “Why did you do it? Why did you abandon them?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“No. You don’t get to shut me out. I gave myself to you…you owe me an explanation at least.”

“I owe you nothing.” He was on his feet now, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Snoke took you. That, I understand…but why didn’t you come back once you had the chance? Why would join a war against your own family? Attack your own people?”

“You know nothing of my demons, Priestess. Don't talk about me like you know me.” He set about pacing the tent. He wanted to hit something, Rey could feel it. By Hades, she wanted to hit something too. Preferably him.

Rey stalked closer, her own anger rising. Her veins tingled in a way they only had when they were sparring. It felt powerful. It felt unstoppable. “There's a hole in them.”

He froze, back turned to her, muscles still coiled.

“They pretend you're dead. Did you know that? They pretend you died because it's easier than having to live with the thought that their son is alive and doesn't care enough to tell them.”

“Good.”

“Good? That’s all you have to say? You lied to me!”

 He spun to face her. “I never lied. Ben _is_ dead. That is no lie.” He was inches from her, towering over her. “I _was_ Ben. Now, I'm not. I am Kylo of Ren and that is the only truth.”

The Rey who’d been a Priestess might’ve shied away from him then. Bowed her head and held her tongue. But, that Rey was gone. Just like Ben. He was Kylo now…and she was a new Rey.

Not a Priestess. A woman.

One who had barely scratched the surface of her own strength.

Rey tilted her chin up toward him. “When you first captured me, I forgave all the evil things you have done because I thought you were just a dumb brute. I could forgive a dumb brute…but your Jedhan. You're a prince. You have two wonderful parents who miss you every day and I can't forgive that.”

“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“So explain it to me.”

“No!”

Rey stepped back, anger flooding out of her, replaced by disappointment. “You're right. I don't know who you are.”

With that she stomped out to find Maz.

* * *

Kylo watched her go. When the flaps swished closed behind her, he let out a cry of rage. He picked up the nearest object, a clay vase, and threw it across the tent, watching it shatter against the washbasin.

How dare she stick her nose in his business? In his past. A small part of his mind reminded him that his past was her present…but that part was overruled by uncontrollable rage. Rage he’d spent years learning to harness and control. But he had no control where Rey was concerned.

How did she find out? Snoke? Phasma? Hux? They were the only people who knew. It must’ve been one of them.

At that very moment, Hux and Phasma entered the tent. Speak of the traitors and they appear, thought Kylo.

“Did you tell her?” His eyes switched back and forth between them. They stood shoulder to shoulder, Phasma looking resigned and Hux looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yes,” said Phasma. “I did and if anything I did you a favor.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped his throat. “And I thought you were my friend.”

“She is,” Hux came to Phasma’s defense. “We both love you…and we both want to help you.” He came forward, hand raised to reach out to Kylo but the demigod swatted it away.

“She would’ve found out eventually,” said Phasma.

“Maybe I would’ve told her…in my own time. It wasn’t your secret to tell.”

“You’re right…but Kylo aren’t you glad it was me who told her and not Snoke?”

The breath rushed out of him like a punch to the gut. He sat down on the furs and dropped his head into his hands. The others sat around him. He took a slow breath in through his nose, letting the air hiss back out between his teeth. “So what now?” He said weakly.

“Come back to the fight.”

“No, not that. Forget about the war,” said Kylo. “How do I get Rey to forgive me?”

Phasma sighed, “You’re unbelievable.”

“What?” Kylo frowned at her. “She won’t sail away with me now. So, I’ve got to get her to forgive me. I could just tie her up and take her on the boat but something tells me that would just make this worse…”

“Kylo, listen to yourself!” Hux stood. “Greeks are dying and you’re whimpering about a girl.”

“She’s not just some girl.”

“But is she worth this? Really? You’d give up immortality for her?”

Those words hung in the air. Everything fell away. The tent. His friends. The only image he could see was his mother. His mother gave up immortality for his father. It was a choice Kylo had never understood. Until now…he understood. Finally, he understood. He’d always lived for glory and the rewards it could bring them because he’d never believed there was anything else to live for. Until Rey.

What good was immortality if he was alone?

He needed to find her.

“I have to go,” he practically stumbled out of the tent. Hux tried to stop him, but he couldn’t even hear his words at that point.

Somehow, he knew where she was. On the sparring hill. He could sense her there. It was as if a thin string connected them and now, all he had to do was tug at it and follow it to her. Something bound them and it grew stronger every day.

His desperate need to find her mounted with each step until he stood before her on the hill. She was holding a blunt blade and panting from exertion. He hadn’t noticed the clouds darkening but sudden trickles of water drew his attention. He tilted his face to the sky, breathing in the rain-scented air, allowing it to steel his nerves. “Rey, I…”

She leveled the blade at him so the blunted tip pressed into his sternum, indenting the blue fabric of his tunic. “Don’t.”

Kylo’s dark eyes soaked her in as the rain began to fall. They searched her face, trying to decipher her thoughts. The rain made her tunic stick to her skin in spots. Her hair was down, hanging around her shoulders in a tumble of waves. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty red color. His eyes zeroed in on her lips, slightly curled. What he’d give to take that full bottom lip between his teeth.

“Fight me,” she growled.

“I don’t have a weapon—Gods, Rey! Watch where you’re swinging that!” He narrowly escaped a blow to the side of the head by ducking and rolling out of the way. She came at him again with unrestrained force.

“Fight!”

He blocked the next swing with his forearm. The blade was blunt but it would bruise all the same. Bruise. Crush. Dent.

He swung his leg out and swept her feet out from under her. She slammed backward against the grass with a huff of breath and he leaped to pin her down. He struggled to wrench open her fingers and get the hilt of the blade from her grasp, but she was faster. She flipped them over so that it was Kylo pinned and her straddling him, forcing the blade to hug his Adam's apple.

Kylo blinked up at the fierce woman above him. Had his self-inflicted hiatus from battle dulled his reflexes? Or was she just that strong? It came naturally to her as it did to him. With time and a teacher, she could be his match on the battlefield. Then, she’d be his equal in every sense of the word, in every aspect of his life.

“Why didn’t you come back to Jedha? If you’d come back before this war, we might’ve—“

“Might’ve what? Met? Fallen in love?”

Her eyes widened a fraction at his use of the word love. The rain came harder now. She had to blink against the rivulets running down her forehead. She pressed the blade harder.

Kylo reached up to grip her biceps pulling her closer. “Does it matter how it happened?” He bucked his hips up. She sighed at the friction it caused and her grip on the blade loosened.

In response, she ground her hips down against his rapidly swelling erection, earning a groan from him. “You are still my enemy. If you won’t come home, you’re my enemy.”

She was completely soaked with rain now and he could see every curve of her skin beneath the thin silk wrap. He’d been aching to touch her before but now, with her panting for breath from the fight and straddling him like some war goddess he was ready to burst.

“So, kill me…if I’m your enemy,” he said, pulling her down so her lips hovered above his. He could lean up and claim them but he wanted it to be her who caved, her who broke the stand-off.

“I should,” she said, “but I can’t…and I hate you for that.” She lowered her mouth to his, the blade still trapped between their throats. She kissed him the way she fought him, aggressive and bloodthirsty. She bit down on his lip and he tasted the tang of iron. He groaned and opened his mouth to her.

He felt her arms go slack and slowly eased the blade out from between them, throwing it away on the grass. Finally, his arms were free to wrap around her body and press it close to his.

He’d never let her go now. He’d keep her there, in his arms where no one could hurt her. His Rey. His star.

Rey was panting harder now, grinding against him until it was almost painful. He flipped them again. She let out a surprised squeak but didn’t protest. Her lithe legs locked around his hips trapping him right where she wanted him.

He took her hands in his and pressed them into the grass above her head. He held her hands there with one of his while his other snaked between them to untie the knot at his waist.

He tugged apart the folds of the blue fabric, freeing his cock.

“Please, Ben.” She moaned. With her hands were still trapped above her head, she couldn’t touch him and he could tell it was driving her wild. It was certainly testing his own patience at this point.

“Don’t call me that, Priestess,” He nipped at her neck with blunt teeth then sucked at that spot hard enough to mark it as his. In some ways, it mirrored the way they'd med, with her tied to the tent pole, bound at the wrist. With that thought, he released her wrists and ripped the fabric of her wrap open to expose her hips. “What’s my name?”

“Ben,” she said, stubborn hazel eyes boring into his.

He teased her folds with one finger, running along the seam but never quite touching. “What. Is. My. Name?”

She pressed her lips into a hard line, refusing to answer. At least she wasn’t calling him Ben. It was a start. He allowed his finger to make contact, gently stroking between her lips.

Her eyes rolled back and she sighed. The more he teased her the more frustrated she got. She writhed and whimpered and finally…just when he was sure he couldn’t hold out any longer, she whispered. “Kylo. Please.”

When he thrust into her, her eyes shot open. Her fingers clutched at his hair. It was rough and fast. Neither of them had the strength to draw it out very long.

It was cold in the rain, but Kylo barely felt it. He thrust a few times and she came undone beneath him. He followed moments later.

He collapsed on top of her, panting, dripping wet, and complete in a way he’d never felt before. She knew. Rey knew who he was and it was okay.

“You’re suffocating me,” Rey pushed him off and rolled on her side to face him. “It’s raining,” she said with a giggle.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Kylo smiled back. He reached out and traced his fingers over the necklace he’d given her. “I would’ve told you one day…when I was ready.”

“Are you relieved that I know?”

“In a way.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

He leaned over to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I will, but not here. Let’s get inside before we both catch our death.” He pulled her to her feet and helped her arrange her skirt so that it covered her before he fixed his own. Then, he pulled her back toward the tent where a warm fire awaited them…and a warm bed which he fully intended to make use of.

* * *

Poe leaned against the balcony railing, watching the stars. He tried to find the pictures in their speckled pattern. Rey was always so good at pointing out the gods and heroes. To Poe, it all looked a chaotic mess.

“It’s going to rain. Why don’t you come back to bed?” Finn’s voice came from the dry safety of the room.

“Do you think she’s alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“I should’ve gone there and found her. I should’ve—“

“There was nothing you could’ve done.” Finn had decided to brave the impending rain to wrap his arms around the champion of Jedha. “What good would you be to Rey if you’d gotten yourself killed?”

Poe sighed, “Han wants to lead the troops to ambush the Greek camp at sunset. Ten thousand fireballs. If Rey is there, she might get caught up in the crossfire.”

“Isn’t there another way?”

“The council doesn’t care about other ways. They are impatient. They think that the Gods are on our side and that the weather is a sign from Apollo that the Greeks will fall. Sometimes, when they look at me, I think they forget that I am just a man.”

“I’ll go with you. If you fall, I fall beside you,” Finn turned Poe to face him. “We started this war together, we are going to end it the same way.”

Poe smiled, “Anything you say.”

* * *

“I told you he’d choose her,” said Phasma.

“Why did you tell Rey about Ben anyway?” Said Hux, still staring at the spot where Kylo had stood moments before. “It was kind of a shady move.”

“As long as Rey is mad at him, she won’t sail with him. If exposing Ben keeps him on Jedhan sand, it is a step in the right direction.” Phasma sighed, “I hoped that putting some space between them might let him see things more clearly but…we’re too late.”

Hux walked to the armor stand. He ran his fingers over the cold bronze and gold. How many times had he seen Kylo in this beautiful armor? He’d marveled at the sight, certain that even the Gods must be jealous of the warlord. How could he put that same armor on his own pathetically mortal body?

“So, we move forward with the plan?” He said, eyes now fixed on the helmet that would soon disguise his face.

Phasma placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s your choice. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Hux swallowed the lump in his throat and removed his fingers from the fabled armor. He turned away, unable to look at it, unable to face what he was going to do. He knew it was the only way, but something about it felt final. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Phasma nodded.

They left the tent together. Hux spent the night taking care of the little feline family Rey had given him. He memorized the patterns of orange that striped Bebe’s back and the midnight black of Nyx. It was Milicent, the little grey kitten, who curled up on the pillow beside his face as he slept, and Milicent who mewled unhappily when the screaming started and Hux fled the tent.

 


	11. Hollow

“We men are wretched things.” 

― **Homer, _The Illiad_**

 

Ch 10:

Hollow

 

“Am I forgiven?” Kylo asked.

Rey lie on her back, naked, warm skin acting as a pillow for Kylo’s dark waves. Her fingers, which had been absently combing through his hair, paused.

“Forgiven for what?”

“For Ben. For not telling you.”

“No, you’re not,” said Rey.

Kylo scooted lower down her body, face now resting teasingly near her hips. “Oh, you’re going to make me work for it. I see.”

“You can’t just make love to me until I forget…that’s not how it works.”

Kylo sighed and rolled onto his back away from her. He flopped his massive body onto the furs, exhaling visibly.

Rey frowned at the sudden loss of contact. “But you’re welcome to try.”

“Oh is that right?” He pounced back onto her, pressing the length of his body along hers so she sunk into the furs, pleasantly trapped. His face hovered above hers, dark eyes intense.

Rey fought the urge to look away, to hide from all that she saw there in his eyes. It  would be too easy to get lost in there…she supposed she already had. It was those eyes that had coaxed her out of her priestess robes and into this new world.

A small part of her wondered what he saw in her. Why, when he could have any woman, did he want her?

“Don’t even think that,” he said.

Rey’s hazel eyes nearly jumped out of her skull. Had she said that out loud? She was sure she hadn’t. She tested this theory. She kept her eyes locked with his and thought…as loudly as one could think, _“I want you, Kylo.”_

He smirked, and she heard his voice in her ears though his lips never moved. _“And I you, Priestess.”_

“What was that?” This time she said it out loud. Kylo winced at the sudden volume.

“Not that strange is it?”

“Has that happened to you before, because I am certainly not used to hearing other people's thoughts.”

He rested his weight on his elbows, still lying a top her. His lips moved to the side of her neck as he spoke. “I have only ever been able to communicate with my grandfather that way before.”

She almost forgot to answer as his blunt teeth lightly bit at her pulse point. “Why can you do it with me? Should we ask Anakin?”

Kylo lifted his head, “Can we talk about him later…maybe when we are not naked.”

Rey giggled, cheeks flushing slightly as she remembered their lack of clothing. She finally noticed the feeling of his skin and part of him pressing against her thighs. “Yes, we can discuss it later.” With her mind she added, _“Now, you were saying something about earning my forgiveness?”_

_“So I did.”_

Rey startled in confusion when he slid down her body again, he coaxed her legs apart with his hands and settled on his stomach between them.

“What?”

“There is more than one way.” He said cryptically.

Her brow furrowed, wondering what he meant. When she understood, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. He moved forward, pressing a soft kiss to her center. _"_ _Oh."_

 _"Relax."_ He whispered in her mind. It amazed her that he was able to talk to her in her mind while his tongue was otherwise occupied. She could definitely get used to that.

* * *

“What’s going on?” Hux asked as he struggled to keep up with Phasma. The Queen stalked through the sand as easily as if she’d been gliding on clouds.

Smoke rose in the distance. The part of the beach where Snoke was camped was burning. Phasma jerked her chin toward the black plumes without breaking stride, “Jedhans ambushed the West end of the beach. You need to get dressed and get the Knights of Ren over there.”

They reached Kylo’s tent. The Queen of Illum pulled back the flaps and shoved Hux inside. “Get dressed,” she said before letting the flaps fall closed, blocking out the moonlight.

Hux had been worried about being caught but Phasma told him that she’d laced their wine with nightshade. They’d be sleeping deeply when he entered the tent. Hux prayed that was true, lest he have to witness _that_ again. It was enough to know about it, he didn’t need it burned on his retinas for all eternity.

They were asleep. Naked. Entwined. But asleep. Hux let out a breath and crept toward the armor on the stand. It waited there, a hollow shell, no soul inside. Soon, it would be his soul ensconced in the golden shell. His flesh. His life.

There was a breath in the dark. Hux’s head whipped to the bed in the center of the tent. Rey had stirred in her sleep. She shifted, tossing a thin tanned arm across Kylo’s marble chest. She snuggled her cheek into his shoulder and sighed. Her eyes remained closed.

Against his better judgement, Hux went to them. He stood there at the side of the bed, watching them sleep for a moment. The look of them was…peaceful. Yes, that was the best word to describe it. Kylo’s face was relaxed, free of lines and harshness. He looked so young. They looked like any other happy couple in love.

Rey shifted again and Hux could’ve sworn she opened her eyes for the briefest moment.

He needed to get out before she woke up for real.

“Sleep well…and hold onto this peace.” He hadn’t the faintest idea what possessed him to say it, but it felt important in that moment. 

With heavy steps, he went and took the armor from the stand and joined Phasma on the beach. Her eyes flashed when she saw him carrying the armor instead of wearing it.

She stalked to him. “Get dressed before someone sees you.” She held the chest plate as he slid it over his arms and it was her hands that lowered the helmet over his strawberry red hair, transforming it into unbreakable steel.

Phasma stepped back and nodded in approval. Without a word she turned, cape billowing out around her. Hux followed to where Phasma’s men were waiting.

“Knights of Ren!” Phasma screamed into the night. She spoke on Hux’s behalf as was discussed. It was the voice that would give him away.

It occurred to him that he had agreed to this. Phasma hadn’t forced his hand. He’d wanted war. It was why he came to Jedha. He’d wanted to feel important for once in his life. Wanted to do something meaningful.

Wearing this armor felt meaningful as nothing thus far had. He was wearing this armor so that Kylo could get a few hours more of peaceful rest. He deserved it more than anyone else Hux knew. He’d had so much chaos for so many years.

Murmurs spread through the onlookers.

_“Kylo?”_

_“Has he returned to battle?”_

Hux gripped the hilt of Kylo’s sword and raised it over his head, pointing it to the gods on Olympus. He almost bellowed something heroic like Kylo was known to do but Phasma must’ve sensed it.

She yelled out before he could get a word out. “Get your weapons. Our brothers are in need of our aid!”

Feet rustled the sand and dozens of swords clanged against armor as the men dressed. Hux listened to it, wishing he could feel anything at all.

But there was nothing.

* * *

Han watched the balls of brush and thorn rolling toward the line of fire his men had set ablaze along the perimeter of the Greeks camp. As each ball crossed the barrier of flame, it lit up, rolling toward the tents with deadly force.

It had been Finn’s idea, and it was a brilliant one. Maybe there _was_ something to his reputation as a strategist. It seemed that Poe, for all his poor timing, had good taste in men.

Han watched the battle from his chariot. Something held him back from joining in. Rey, he thought. He was sure she was here somewhere. He couldn’t stop himself from scrutinizing every flash of brown hair.

A stampede of Greeks charged at Han’s troops. Han recognized the crescent moon of the Knight’s of Ren. He thought of his encounter with their leader, Kylo of Ren. Han still felt an odd flood of familiarity as he remembered the warrior’s words to him on the plinth of the desecrated statue of Apollo.

There were moments when even Han could feel the Gods’ hands in things. Speaking with Kylo in the temple had been one of those times. Somehow, some way, his destiny and Kylo’s were entwined. It was a truth he could feel as clearly as he could feel that it would soon be winter.

As Han ruminated on this, he saw the warrior himself stalking through the mass of bodies. Kylo moved slower this morning. His steps were not as sure footed as Han recalled them being. But there was no mistaking the armor.

It was when Kylo raised his sword above his head, preparing to strike a blow to Poe, who had his back turned, that Han abandoned his vigil and leapt into the battle. Finn got there first, intercepting Kylo’s blow with his own sword. But Finn was an archer. He wasn’t strong enough to withstand such force, his arm cracked and bent at a strange angle. He cried out in pain, alerting Poe to the situation.

Poe turned wide-eyed to face the imposing demigod and his broken lover.

“Finn!” Poe caught him before he could fall to the sand. Saving him from the shame of falling to his knees before a Greek.

Han fought his way through the onlooker until he was at Poe’s side. “Get him out of here,” Han growled, his eyes never leaving Kylo’s menacing helmet.

The warlord swung again, but Han was ready. Poe and Finn stumbled off toward the horses while Han matched Kylo blow for blow. Again, Han felt that something was off.

Han liked to think he was a decent swordsman…and yet, even he knew that he was no match for Kylo of Ren. Yet, he blocked every swing. He even gained some footing on the taller warrior. 

Han’s eyes narrowed in concentration. It didn’t matter why Kylo was distracted. All that mattered was killing him. If Han could end him here and now, it would cripple the Greeks.

Kylo pirouetted to gain momentum, his sword swung out the way a dress billows out around a spinning girl on a dance floor. Han leaned backward, back bending near in half to avoid the swing. Then, he lunged back and his blade hit soft flesh.

Han didn’t even see what he’d hit at first. He lowered his sword to his side, panting, watching.

Kylo faltered. The sword slipped from his fingers. His armored body swayed. He tilted his head to the clouds…and in the gap between helmet and chest plate, Han saw an angry red line open up like a bloody smile across the exposed neck.

Blood flooded down, leaking out of Kylo’s body fast as the river’s current.

Red blood. Human Blood. Mortal blood.

Blood stained the gold of the armor and hit the sand, steaming slightly in the cold morning air.

By now, the sun was climbing the sky, bathing the beach in the purple and grey hues of predawn.

The fighting around them died down. Every soldier turned to watch, recognizing the significance of what had happened. Kylo teetered and pitched backward, landing on the sand with a thud.

A woman screamed. A woman? Han recognized the Queen of Illum as she rushed forward. She cradled the demigod’s helmeted head in her lap chanting an unfamiliar word over and over, “Hux. Hux. No.”

Han tilted his head, watching intently as she yanked the helmet off the warrior. Han had never seen Kylo of Ren’s face, but he had seen the waves of dark hair poke out of the bottom of the helmet.

The hair that was laid bare now was red. Sweat-slick, caked with blood, and coppery red.

That was not Kylo of Ren.

The Queen’s bloodshot eyes raised to Han. She bared her teeth and cried, “Leave!”

Han stared at her, words failing him. Were they not here for battle? Why would he leave now?

“Are you deaf?” She screamed. “That’s enough for today. Leave!”

She ordered some men to grab the man in Kylo’s armor and shoved her way through the crowds.

Han watched them carry the young man away. Disgust welled in his chest. Any more of this and he was sure there’d be a a black spot in place of what had been his heart.

That young man was not Kylo of Ren. He was no warrior. He was young, probably close to Ben’s age—if Ben was still alive. Too young to die like this.

Han was sullen the rest of the day. He holed up in the royal bed chamber at dinner, refusing to eat. He sat on the balcony in full armor, still covered in the spray of blood that had shot from Kylo’s neck.

He was still there when Leia found him. She pulled him to his feet and guided him to the wash basin. She removed his armor and coaxed him to sit in the tub while her gentle hands washed away the blood.

“What happened?” She asked quietly.

“I killed a young man today. He couldn’t have been any older than Ben would be now.”

“Poe and Finn are both younger then Ben and they fight every day. Why did it bother you so, today?”

“He was wearing Kylo of Ren’s armor…but it wasn’t him. He was no warrior. He was clumsy and slow. He was no match for me and I slaughtered him.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I did though,” Han turned to look at his wife, “I knew something was wrong and I just kept telling myself…end him and this war is over. Kill him.”

Leia’s careworn face was somber but somehow still fierce, the monarch in her shining through. “This is war Han. The man you killed knew what was at stake.”

“I have a bad feeling, Leia. He had Kylo’s armor which means the real Kylo trusted him. What if they were friends? What if his death is what coaxes Kylo to rejoin the war. What if I just doomed us?”

“That is a lot of ‘What if’s’. The Greeks can’t breach our walls and they won’t last the winter on that beach. All we need do is wait it out. They will leave.”

Han nodded. His mind was hardly at ease, but he plastered on a smile for the sake of his wife. “Speaking of cold.” He rose from the basin and stepped out. 

* * *

Kylo woke to the strangest of sensations. A warm tongue lapped at his temple. He grinned, eyes still closed. “Good morning to you too…”

“What?” Rey’s sleepy voice replied from beside him.

Kylo propped one eye open and found himself face to face with Bebe, Hux’s infernal orange tabby. The warrior opened his other eye and saw the whole feline family gathered on his bed. 

He slowly became aware of things around him. Noises outside the tent. The smell of iron and blood in the air. Suspicion tugged at his mind. There was no reason for it but his eyes slid to the armor stand which stood empty in the corner, a skeleton stripped of its splendor.

He threw back the blanket and leapt to his feet. He covered his body with the first scrap of clothing he could find. He stalked toward the tent’s entrance, nearly bowling over Mitaka one of the Knights who had just poked his head in.

“M’lord,” Mitaka ducked his head in shame.

“Why are you in armor?” Kylo’s eyes narrowed. His breath came faster now. He pushed past Mitaka out onto the beach. His Knights were gathered outside the tent each of them in varying states of panic.

“You violated my command!” Kylo clenched his fists against the rage and betrayal coursing through him.

“No my lord,” said Mitaka. “There was a mistake.”

“I ordered the Knights of Ren to stand down. You led them into combat.”

Mitaka fell to his knees in the sand. “I didn’t lead them. I thought you did.”

Kylo noticed the bloodshot quality of his eyes. A muscle twitched in Kylo’s jaw. He looked at the others, all in armor, all devastated. A fresh trail of blood led from the distance to the entrance of Hux’s tent. The cats had followed him out and brushed against his ankles, their mewling the only sound on the beach.

Everyone held their breath, watching him. Waiting to see what he’d do.

“Hux!” Kylo shouted. His eyes scanned the crowd waiting for the strawberry blonde head to appear. “Hux!” He tried again. His nerves became frantic pacing as he called out the name.

Mitaka flattened his palms in a placating gesture. “He wore your armor. Carried your sword.”

“Where is he?” Kylo lunged, fist crushing Mitaka’s cheek bone, sending him backwards onto his back.

Kylo shook his head. “No,” he refused to accept this. 

No. They were leaving. He and Hux and Rey. The ships were already being packed. They were going to find a quiet life somewhere. Somewhere without Greeks or Jedhans.

Then, _she_ stepped out of the tent. Phasma. Her armor was bloodstained. Her unusually fair skin splotchy from crying.

“You,” Kylo pointed an accusing finger at her as he stalked forward. “You did this.”

She faced him, calm and unyielding as only a Queen could be. “It was my idea, yes. But Hux made the decision on his own.”

“Where is he!”

“He’s dead,” she screamed back, matching his volume. “Han cut his throat.”

Kylo stood still for a long time. The words didn’t make sense to him. Han. Hux. Dead. Throat cut.

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

When he moved again it was to pull his hand back and slap Phasma. The crack echoed through the crowd. As did the answering crack when she returned the gesture.

Kylo spit the blood that welled in his mouth and they both stared at each other, panting, bleeding, crying.

He turned and stalked away.


	12. Love

“You have your swords. I have my tricks. We play with the toys the gods give us.” 

― **Odysseus, _Troy_**

 

Ch 11:

Love

 

Everything seemed to be moving too quickly around her and yet she was in slow motion. Rey stepped out of the tent just in time to hear the announcement.

Hux was dead.

Han killed him.

Kylo was gone.

He stalked past her with the same weight in his steps that usually only accompanied him to the battlefield. She wanted to reach out, to say something…but her limbs refused to cooperate. She blinked and he had vanished. All that remained was the circle of knights and Phasma, staring at her, or maybe through her—Rey couldn’t really tell.

Something brushed her ankles. Bebe and Nyx blinked up at her from the sand. She sighed and bent to collect them. She brought them into Kylo’s tent and stood there, watching them slink around in search of their owner. She’d hardly known Hux and yet she could feel his absence and the hole it dug in Kylo.

What would he do? He’d planned to leave this war, and Rey had counted that as a personal victory. His refusal to fight meant she didn’t have to watch any more of her people die…but now, this tragedy that she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around, had the potential to ruin everything.

She had to find him. She had to stop him. Calm him down.

She ran down the beach and to the grotto. It was the first place she thought to look and sure enough, he was there. He stalked back and forth along the bank, hair billowing in the breeze, fists clenching and unclenching. He was too deep in his own thoughts to even notice her approach.

She thought of their discovery that morning. _Kylo_? She thought at him. _Ben?_

His head snapped up at that. “Get out of here.” He said.

“No,” Rey folded her arms across her chest and squared her much smaller body against his.

“Leave!” It was a scream this time, a scream tinged with the anguish roiling in him. It broke her heart to hear it.

If only he’d let her hold him. She’d hold him and run her fingers through his hair, and whisper in his ear that it would be alright. “Kylo, stop.”

“You have no say in this. You have no claim on me, Rey. You’re just a distraction, a cure for boredom.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. I don’t have lovers, partners, friends. I have pastimes. Look what happens to people I get close to.”

She felt her lip trembling and she bit down to try to stop it. She was stronger than that. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. No matter what vile things he said. “I know you’re upset,” she said evenly, “but that doesn’t give you the right to push me away.” In her mind she added, _We are bound, whether you like it or not._

His eyes flashed, a muscle ticked in his jaw. “You’ve bound yourself to a monster, Priestess.”

“I just want to help you.”

“I don’t need your pity. I didn’t need it before and I don’t need it now.”

“It’s not pity,” Rey stepped closer, “You’re hurting and so, I’m hurting. That’s how this works.”

“ _This_ ,” he flashed a sardonic smile. “Whatever we had…whatever we might’ve had is gone. Hux is dead by Han’s hand…and now, I have to even the score. I’ll go to collect Han of Solo’s head. I’ll win, don’t think that I won’t, I _will._ And where does that leave us, Rey? Could you still love me with Han’s blood on my hands?”

The tears that had threatened Rey’s eyes fell freely as he spoke. “You don’t have to kill him. Revenge solves nothing. It won’t bring Hux back.”

“It is about honor. Hux deserves vengeance.”

Rey wiped at her cheeks furiously, “When does it end? The death? The cycle?”

“It doesn’t.”  With that he stormed past her and was gone.

She turned to follow but another voice behind her called her name, “Rey.”

“Anakin?” Rey turned to face the god, trying to conceal the trembling in her hands. 

“I heard about Hux,” Anakin sat on the bank and patted the rock beside him in invitation. 

Rey sat, still hiccuping through her tears. “How could the gods have let that happen?”

“It doesn’t work like that. We cannot interfere in the fates of mortals. We can only point you in the right direction…we can’t control what you do after that.”

“Is he at peace?”

Anakin’s youthful face looked burdened. He sighed, “The Underworld is not a place that I can go. I do not know if he will find peace. Some souls walk the banks of the river Styx, waiting for their loved ones to join them. Others find rest. It is up to him.” He turned so that he was sitting crosslegged before her, “Now is perhaps not the best time to tell you this but I did figure out why you look so familiar. There is something special about you, I felt it the moment Kylo brought you here.”

“I’m not special. I’m an orphan. My own parents didn’t even want me. If Poe hadn’t found me I’d still be Unkar’s slave…or worse.”

“That is not what I have heard from my friends on Olympus.”

“The gods haven’t forsaken me?” Rey ducked her head in shame. “I thought they’d be angry after…I broke my vows.”

Anakin grinned but had the decency not to comment on that particular situation. “I can tell you that one god in particular is most certainly not disappointed in you.”

“Not in the least,” said another male voice.

Beyond Anakin, Rey saw another ageless god, though there was something familiar in his blue eyes. He approached them and offered her a hand to stand up. Anakin leapt gracefully to his feet as well.

“She is every bit as lovely as you described her,” said the new arrival to Anakin.

“I told you. They’d be proud,” Anakin answered.

“Who are you?” Rey’s eyes narrowed as those familiar blue eyes locked with hers. Familiar…“Master Kenobi?” She asked. “How? You’re so… _young_.”

Master Kenobi smiled, “I have been watching over you all your life my girl. It was the least I could do for my own granddaughter.”

“Your what?” Rey’s mouth hung open. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry or both. She had a family? And he’d been right under her nose all this time? “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I couldn’t. That was one of the conditions of the arrangement I made with your father.”

“My father?”

“Yes, he is a god himself, though much more powerful than I could ever hope to be. He kept you in Jedha in order to protect you…I wished to remain with you, to watch over you…and he agreed on the condition that I not reveal my identity to you.”

“Who is my father?”

Master Kenobi frowned, “That is another one of the conditions…I can’t tell you his identity. Not right now.”

Rey threw her hands in the air and let out a growl of frustration. For a moment she understood Kylo. This was the first time in her life that she had anger coursing through her hot as her own blood. She wanted to hurt something.

“Don’t be angry. We all did as we thought was best. There was a prophecy, you see.”

Now, she laughed. “Another prophecy? Is there always a prophecy? No wonder people are afraid of you.”

Master Kenobi, or the younger, more handsome version of him stepped forward, “I will tell you what I can but first can a grandfather hug his only granddaughter?” He reached his arms out.

Rey hesitated for about one-third of a second before she fell into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her. It felt safe and warm, though not as safe as Kylo’s arms. Why in the world was she thinking of Kylo now? She was finally embracing the first actual blood-relative she’d ever had and the only thing on her mind was Kylo.

“He is torn, Rey,” said Anakin, who must’ve sensed her thoughts. “He has always fought a war inside himself. Loosing Hux has pushed him into the darkness…but he can be saved.”

She stepped away from her grandfather and looked to Kylo’s. “How?”

“Go to him. Try to talk to him,” said Anakin, “You are more powerful than you know Rey. Trust that.”

Rey looked back at her Grandfather.

“I’m not going anywhere, my girl. We will both be here when you want to talk but if you must go to him now, then go.”

She hugged them both one last time and then took off at a run.

* * *

“Make funeral preparations while I’m gone,” Kylo barked at the Knights who stumbled out of their tents to intercept him. He climbed onto his chariot and gripped the thick leather reins in his calloused hands.

“Wait! Kylo, wait!”

He clamped his eyes shut and let out a breath. Rey. He didn’t have the strength to face her now. He had to do this. Hux deserved it. Han deserved it. He couldn’t let something as frivolous as love get in the way of his revenge.

“You don’t have to do this.” Tear tracks stained her gorgeously tanned skin, but she held her head high as she had done the day he claimed her in Snoke’s tent.

She planted herself in front of his horses, blocking his path. “Rey, please move. I don’t want to run you over.”

“He is my father—not by blood but by sentiment.” Though the tears didn’t fall, there was no masking the desperation in her voice. “More importantly, he is _your_ father. You cannot kill your own flesh and blood.”

His grip on the reins tightened. “He was no father. He was a disappointment. Hux was the only family I had and he took that away.”

“I’m still here. Hux wasn’t your only family. I love you. I could be your family. We could leave, just like we planned.”

“You’d say anything to save his life.”

“No, I _do_ love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. I don’t know why or how. I can’t explain it, but I know that it’s true…and I know that you feel it too.”

The words echoed in the air around him. She continued talking but all he heard was _I love you_ ….she loved him. Oh, and he loved her. How he loved her. But he couldn’t say it. Not here, not now, not like this.

He’d never get the chance to say it. Han had robbed him of that chance. The next time he saw Rey, she would look on him with disgust. It would break his heart and haunt him for eternity…but it was a price he would pay to lay Hux’s soul to rest.

Was this what the Gods had meant? The prophecy said that if he set foot again on Jedhan soil, he would never leave. He would die here, in this war…but he would die in glory.

He’d been planning to leave like some idiot in love. He should’ve known those plans would never come to fruition.

He couldn’t leave.

He’d sealed his fate the moment he climbed off the ship.

Rey had been a surprise. A wonderful surprise, but she changed nothing.

His fate was written in the stars, and she was simply not a part of it.

Kylo nodded to hi Knights and they rushed forward, scooped Rey up and removed her from his path. He flicked the reins and with a _“Yeah!”_ He was speeding toward the impenetrable walls of Jedha.

The city was deathly still before him. No soldiers patrolled the walls, no traders entered the gates. Nothing moved but him and his horses.

He leapt from his chariot at the base of the great gates and cried out to the silent air, “Han Solo!”

Again and again his cry into the wind went unanswered, _Han!_ Until finally, the gates parted and the figure of an aging man appeared. Han walked forward with confidence. He stopped and planted his spear in the sand and nodded his head toward Kylo.

“I’ve seen this moment in my dreams,” said Han. “I’ll make a pact with you. With the Gods as our witnesses, pledge that the winner will allow the loser all the proper funeral rituals.”

Kylo almost laughed. He too had seen this moment in his dreams. The moment he’d again be face to face with his father. This was not how he’d imagined it. In his dreams, Han was already dead. “There are no pacts between lions and men,” Kylo planted his own spear in the sand and he reached up and pried his helmet from his head, revealing his face to his father for the first time, “Now, you know who you’re fighting.”

The color drained from the older warrior’s face. Kylo knew that he recognized him…but to his surprise, Han didn’t say it.

“I thought it was you I was fighting…but I can’t lie to you. I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

Kylo sneered. He grabbed his spear and stalked forward. Han drew his own spear and shield, but his movements were slow and half-hearted.

They clashed together with a clang of steel. Kylo struck and Han dodged, cowering beneath his shield to avoid the blow.

Unbidden, Rey’s voice entered Kylo’s thoughts. _I love you. You don’t have to do this. You are more than this._

Kylo’s eyes caught a flash of white on the top of the wall, his eyes flicked up just for a moment, but it was enough to see Leia, his mother watching them with horror on her face.

 _Kylo, Ben, please…Hux wouldn’t want this_.

Kylo thrust his spear forward. It’s trajectory should’ve pierced Han’s jugular, but Kylo adjusted it’s course at the last moment. The sharp tipped spear went through Han’s shoulder instead. Clean in and out the other end, missing any vital organs.

Kylo yanked it out and watched the blood leaking down Han’s breastplate, coating the grooves in the crest of house Jedha.

Han’s tired eyes searched his face, “Ben?” He wheezed.

Kylo’s left arm came up and his shield came back down on Han’s skull with a crack. The older man fell face forward in the sand. In the distance Leia screamed as thought her own heart had just been ripped from her chest.

Kylo paid it no mind. His breath came in and out so fast he was growing dizzy. His vision blurred. He couldn’t see past his own rage. He stalked tot he chariot and took the rope he’d brought for this. He picked up Han’s limp ankles and lashed the rope around them.

Then, without a glance back, he climbed aboard his chariot and flicked the reins, dragging Han’s body through the sands. He avoided the rocky patches, keeping to the paved road in a small act of mercy.

The only way he could justify this disgusting weakness was Rey’s voice in his mind. _Kylo, you’re enough. I love you._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No fluffier today but worry not friends...there is so much more in store for these two.


	13. Ch 12: Goodbye

**Achilles** : You're still my enemy in the morning.

**Priam** : You're still my enemy tonight. But even enemies can show respect.

―  **_Troy_ **

 

Ch 12:

Goodbye

 

Rey wasn’t sure what she was hoping would happen.

If Kylo burst into the tent…it would mean Han was dead.

But, what if he never returned? Would she go back to Jedha? Could she?

She knew Han would never kill his own son, but there was the question of whether or not Han even knew what Ben had become. There were too many questions. Too many unknowns.

She supposed the two people who might have some answers were waiting for her at the grotto…but she couldn’t bring herself to go there now. She couldn’t bring herself to do anything but sit in the tent, clutching her knees to her chest.

Han or Kylo?

Han or Ben?

Who could she forgive? Who did she want to forgive.

It didn’t take long.

Kylo stomped in just an hour after he’d left. Unharmed but angrier than she’d ever seen him.

She’d be lying if she denied that her heart broke a bit at the sight. Kylo was here. Han was dead. An equal part of her heart relaxed at the knowledge that he was safe. She was about to tell him as much when he rounded on her, pointing an accusing finger.

“This is your fault!”

“”What’s my fault?” She was on her feet, anger vibrating in her blood. “I fail to see how any of this is my fault.”

“You were there, in my head…with your voice and your words and everything got so mixed up, I couldn’t remember what I wanted.” He paced frantically, pulling at his hair. “Everything was fine before you. Everything made sense.”

Rey backed toward the entrance, afraid for the first time of what he might do. He was a feral animal now. There was nothing refined or civilized in his steps as they slaked around the tent.

“I wasn’t in your head. I haven’t spoken to you since you left.”

“I had him there in front of me. Revenge was so close…but all I could think about was you. And now, I…”

“I don’t understand. You’re not making sense.”

“See for yourself.”

Rey really had no interest in seeing Han’s body in whatever state Kylo had left it in but Kylo took her by the arm and dragged her onto the moonlit beach outside. Han lie alongside the tent, away from the main crossroads. Away from prying eyes, Rey noted. His ankles were bound together and still tethered to the chariot. One leather sandal hung from a severely beaten foot. Gravel and sand covered his skin, turning it an ashy gray-brown color. There were assorted cuts and gashes and those too were clogged with debris.

Rey covered her mouth with her hand to stop from gagging at the sight. _Oh, Kylo. What have you done?_

She turned away from the sight the moment Kylo released her arm. But then she heard the smallest of sounds. A sound that didn’t belong. A tiny hiss, so welcome it might have been music.

She looked back over her shoulder. “Han?”

Another hiss. His chest rose slightly and when it fell it emitted the wheezing sound. Punctured lung, she surmised, grateful for those long afternoons spent in Maz’s tent.

She rushed toward her foster father’s body. “He’s alive?” She looked up to see Kylo standing nearby. Looking like he wanted to take his father in his arms, but also like he wanted to bash him over the head with something heavy and finish what he’d started. “You…spared his life?”

Kylo shrugged, looking anywhere but at her. “He’ll die out here by morning anyway. Maybe I just wanted to drag it out.”

Rey rose.

“Where are you going?” Kylo asked, eyes panic stricken.

“Maz’s tent. I need to bind his ribs.”

“No,” Said Kylo, placing his considerably large frame in her way.

Rey simply walked around him, marching across the moonlit sand without a backward glance.

“Rey, I said no.”

She ignored him.

 

* * *

Kylo went into the tent and collapsed on the edge of the bed. His head fell into his hands. What was going on? He never should’ve come back to Jedha. Anakin had tried to warn him but he’d been so determined to have his fame. Now what was he? A coward who backed down from his own fight?

He heard the rustling of the tent flaps. Rey was back from the healer’s tent.

“Think a few bandages will save him?”

“Kylo of Ren.”

The voice startled him. It wasn’t Rey. Kylo looked up just was the robed figure lowered his hood.

“Luke?” Kylo’s mouth parted in wonder. He hadn’t seen his uncle in—over a decade. Distance had tarnished Kylo’s memory of Luke. He’d began to think of his uncle as a small, cowardly man, more concerned with his gold than anything else. All it took was one look into those piercing blue eyes to dispel those lies from his memory.

Luke was honorable, and true, and the bravest man he’d known.

Kylo had forgotten.

Luke stepped toward him slowly, the way a man approached a lion in the wild. “You are the man who has taken my sister’s husband…the closest thing to a brother I have known," Luke paused, emotion making his voice waiver, "He was a good man. He was a good husband."

The way Luke spoke made Kylo think that he didn’t recognize him…but there was something in Luke’s eyes that said otherwise.

Kylo groaned. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

To Kylo’s horror, Luke lowered himself onto one knee, kneeling before Kylo, laying his dignity at a murderer's feet. Luke took one of Kylo's hands and kissed the calloused knuckles. Kylo flinched in horror.

“Give him back to us," Luke pled, "He deserves a proper funeral. It is every man’s right. Don’t deny me this.”

“Get up,” Kylo growled, wrenching his hand away. “He doesn’t need a funeral pyre. He needs a physician.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “He’s alive.”

Kylo didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, he said, “How did you even get here? There are guards everywhere.”

“I would like to think I know my own country better than any Greek army.”

Kylo nodded. He came to a decision. Luke risked everything to come here. So, Kylo would do the same. Just this once. Kylo stakled to the tent flaps and said, “Then, you can find your way back unnoticed? Listen to me, I do not want anyone to know about this. If they think me weak…” Kylo trailed off.

“I won’t breathe a word of it. You have my word as King.”

Kylo gave one sharp nod. “You re a far better King than the one leading this army. Come.” Kylo stomped out of the tent with Luke on his heels. They rounded the corner of the tent and found Rey tending to Han’s considerable wounds.

She looked up. The bandages in her hands scattered as she recognized Luke. She threw herself into his embrace. Kylo looked on, sick with envy at the way Rey fit into _his_ family. Luke looked at her like she was his own child. He’d never looked at him that way.

"Luke!" She breathed into his dark robed chest.

"Gods, Rey. We assumed the worst."

"I was well cared for," she said with a shy glance to Kylo.

Luke's eyes moved between them, perceptive as ever. "We need to go before dawn breaks."

They loaded Han quickly onto the chariot. Luke climbed aboard with a solemn nod to Kylo. Rey lingered. She expected something from him but he didn’t know what. Whatever they’d had was dead now. He’d betrayed her…he knew that and he stood behind his decision.

“Go. You’re free.”

Rey fiddled with the pearl’s that hung about her neck. “Come with us.”

“You know that I can’t do that.”

“What’s left for you here? Hux is dead. Phasma is against you. Glory…is that really it?”

“Goodbye, Rey.”

Her eyes flashed at the dismissal. She shook her head and turned to climb aboard the chariot. He watched her until she was dust. There was so much to say. So much he needed her to know. But it would do no good to say those things. Not when there was no future for them.


	14. A Kenobi

** “…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.”  **

** ― Homer, The Iliad **

 

**Ch 13:**

**A Kenobi**

 

Kylo’s sword sung as he struck it against the unyielding rock wall of the grotto. Over and over. He could feel Anakin’s eyes tracking him. Kenobi’s too. Kylo wasn’t familiar with the man outside of his Grandfather’s occasional stories. He was a little annoyed that he thought himself welcome here now, in what was certainly one of Kylo’s darkest moments.

“Ben, stop this.”

Kylo snarled. Anakin hadn’t used that name in years. There was a reason the Anakin was the only family member Kylo had remained in contact with. Anakin had always respected his desire to be his own man. He’d never questioned it.

“Do not presume to use my given name.”

“Got your attention didn’t it?” Anakin shook his head and glanced at the man beside him, “See, I told you they were alike.”

Kenobi chuckled. He had a nice smile that revealed perfect lines of white teeth. Not unlike a certain priestess Kylo knew. Gods, now he was seeing her likeness in strangers. Could he never escape her?

“If it upsets you so, then go to her. You know where she is.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Kylo threw the sword to the ground and collapsed beside the water’s edge.

“Do I? I fail to see anything stopping you.”

“Snoke,” said Kylo. “I can’t kill him without incurring the wrath of all of Greece. And I can’t run from him without looking a coward. If I go back to Jedha my name will go down in history as the greatest traitor of all time.”

“Or the greatest hero, depending on how you look at it,” said Kenobi with another sharp grin.

“The best thing I can do for Rey is stay here. At least while I’m here, I can keep an eye on Snoke. I’ll be privy to his plans for the war.”

“And that’s all that keeps you here? You no longer care to see Jedha fall?”

“I was done with the war the minute Snoke disrespected me in front of all the Kings of Greece,” Kylo toyed with the charm that hung behind his ear, “I never wanted to see Jedha fall. You know that.”

Anakin sat beside the spot where Kylo’s black hair fanned out on the rocks, “And what of your quest for glory? Has that ended too?”

Kenobi, who still stood knee deep in the water, leaned forward ever so slightly, eager for an answer. Kylo looked back and forth between the two gods, “Who wants to know exactly?”

“Let’s just say the gods have a vested interest in your intentions, Kylo,” Said Kenobi. “Specifically, your intentions toward Rey.”

Kylo sat up, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He could feel an idea tugging at the fringes of his mind. An idea that felt like truth…but he couldn’t quite grasp it. There was something going on, something these gods weren’t telling him and the gods had a reputation for being tricksters when it suited them.

“Grandfather, you told me the prophecy about me stated that my glory walked hand in hand with my doom. That, should I join the war and come to Jedha, I would never leave. What does any of that have to do with Rey?”

Anakin glanced at his companion, “You want to take this?”

Kenobi extended a friendly hand, “Ben, I don’t believe I ever formally introduced myself. I’m Ben Kenobi. You were named after me, I apologize for that. I also happen to be Rey’s grandfather.”

Emotions flashed across Kylo’s face, suspicion the most prominent among them, “What are you trying to say. Oh, gods! Rey and I aren’t related are we?” He nearly gagged on the wine he’d ingested earlier.

The gods chuckled, “No. You’re not related. Leia named you after me because she and I were very close. I helped raise her. But…being that I am Rey’s grandfather…and I am also a god, just like your grandfather…”

He trailed off, leaving Kylo to connect the dots. He thought of their sparring in the rain. The way she’d taken to the sword like she was born to wield it. He thought of the fleeting snippets of conversation that he swore he’d imagined.

“She’s a demigod. She’s just like me.”

“She’s your equal,” Kenobi agreed.

Kylo quirked an eyebrow at his sneaky, meddling grandfather, “What does the real prophecy say?”

Anakin rubbed a hand over his jaw to hide his smirk, “Oh, I can’t remember the exact wording but it’s something along the lines of two demigods ending the greatest war in history, bringing about a new era of peace…birthing more little gods and goddesses. Prosperity, love happiness, all the nauseating things that go along with it.”

“But it still depends on you, Ben,” said Kenobi, “Prophecies are never set in stone. You know this. There are always two paths.”

Despite his grandfather’s pretty words, Kylo found himself shaking with rage, “You lied to me? You manipulated me into joining this war?” He jumped to his feet, pacing the rocks the way he did when the beast inside him took over, “You let me think I would come here to die for glory…all so I could meet Rey? All so the gods could birth more gods? Are my feelings for her even real? Or did you manipulate those too?”

Anakin approached him, “The prophecy I told you before was never wrong. It was true at the time. We never planned on you and Rey finding each other, but once you did…things changed. Prophecies change. They adapt. Rey unfolded a new path for you, one that was impossible until her.”

“Well, she’s gone now so it looks like your prophecy is wrong. She chose Jedha over me.”

“A war camp was no place for her. You know that. She’s safer in Jedha for now. It doesn’t mean she’s forsaken you.”

Kylo turned his back to his grandfather. “I don’t want to hear anything more you have to say.”

* * *

Rey had been hugged more in the last few hours then she’d been in her entire life. Poe had clutched her for a solid ten minutes before he passed her off to Finn. Leia lurked at the fringes of the room, unusually quiet. The whites of her eyes were streaked red and her usually meticulously styled hair was unbound.

Rey met her eye over Finn’s shoulder. She wanted to run to her and tell her the good news about Han but Luke’s arrival with the servants beat her to it.

“Bring him through here. There isn’t much time.”

“Luke?” If Leia’s face had been pale before, now it drained of all color, “How? When did you get here?”

Her dark eyes traveled to the stretcher being carried in behind Luke. Rey sucked in a breath. Leia’s eyes. They were Kylo’s eyes. How had she never noticed?

Leia turned away, “Take his body to be cleaned. I won’t see him like this.”

Rey slipped out of Finn’s arms. “No, Leia, look.”

A crease formed between her brows.

Rey took her hand and led her toward Han, “Trust me.”

The men carrying Han slowed for a moment to indulge the princess. Leia’s eyes fell upon Han and he let out a gurgling breath.

Leia let out a small gasp and covered her mouth with her hands. “Well, what are you standing around for. Get him upstairs.”

They rushed away. Rey knew better than to follow. She’d only be in the way. Sure, she’d spent long days in the healer’s tent with Maz, but her skill was no match for the physicians of Jedha. Luke followed the stretcher, leaving Rey alone in the foyer with Finn and Poe.

Words tumbled from their mouths so fast it was hard to tell who’d said what.

_“Let’s go to your room. I’ll have a meal sent up.”_

_“We can talk there.”_

_“You must be starving and tired.”_

_“Are you hurt?”_

She didn’t answer them. She just let them pull her upstairs, half in a daze. She’d imagined her homecoming so many times during her early days with Kylo…but as the weeks wore on…she’d stopped imagining it. The homecoming she envisioned changed.

She’d had visions of walking through the gates of Jedha, Kylo at her side. Both of them ready to come home. Being here now without him felt wrong, empty.

 _Kylo, why did you do it?_ She asked herself for the umpteenth time.

For the first time, she heard him respond, _He left me no choice._

 _“_ Rey? Rey answer please!”

She registered Poe’s concerned face…and she was sitting? When had that happened? They were in her room, she, seated on a floor cushion while Poe and Fin crouched on either side of her.

“Where’d you go. You were walking with us and then it just seemed like you were someplace else.”

Rey shook her head, “It’s nothing. I’m just worried about Han.”

A savant stepped in with a tray of food. Poe went to accept it while Finn asked, “Yeah, what happened with that? Why’d that monster let him live?”

“His name is Kylo,” it came out sharper then she intended. The words floated in the air between them, echoing through her own ears like a piece of damning evidence. Why had she said that?

In her mind's eye, she could almost see Kylo chuckling. She could definitely hear the deep timbre of his voice.

Finn’s eyes blew wide. Poe sucked in a sharp breath. And Rey knew it was too late to take it back.

“Rey, I lived with the man in Snoke’s court for years. I know what he is.”

“Maybe you just never saw the real Kylo. He’s the only reason I’m alive.” _He’s also the true heir to Jedha._ She left that part out.

 _No, I’m not._ His voice echoed in her ears.

Poe set the food down and hesitantly offered Rey a bunch of red grapes. “I just want you to know, what you’re feeling is normal. People often form bonds with their captors. It happens all the time in war.”

She was about to reach for the grapes but after that statement, she retracted her hand. “Excuse me? You think I’ve been brainwashed? Are you serious?”

Poe held out his hands, palms spread, “No—look—I, what? I didn’t mean to upset you. We are just concerned. We were so worried about you, Rey. You have no idea.”

Her shoulders deflated, “I know,” she said quietly, “It’s just that the Greeks aren’t all bad. They are just people and they happen to be on the wrong side of the war. It’s Snoke. He’s the real monster.”

“Agreed,” Finn sneered. Poe silently reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers.

That small subtle gesture made Rey’s heart squeeze in her chest. She and Kylo would never get to experience that. They’d never have the luxury of taking each other for granted. When there is no war, it is easy to grow comfortable in the knowledge that your lover will always be there. Holding their hand seems like nothing. It becomes automatic because it’s not in danger of being taken away.

She and Kylo had only ever been fire and blood, pain and pleasure because they hadn’t had time. And now they never would.

Rey shook herself out of her head. She was home, with her family and she was acting like a miserable spoiled child. She should be counting her blessings and thanking the gods, not sulking.

She forced a smile, “It’s just been…it’s a lot. I’m feeling a lot. I’m so glad to be home, and I missed you both so much, and this war is terrible,” tears started to burn behind her eyes, she could feel them leaking into her words, making her stumble to say what she meant. “I—don’t—know—how to—feel about—anything.”

Then, she was in Poe’s arms, “Shhh, it’s alright. We know. We know. It will end soon.”

It wouldn’t. She knew that and she knew that Poe knew that…but it was nice to hear.

“Would it help to go see Han? So, you can see that we are all back together again. Our family is safe.”

No, she thought, because Ben’s not here. Our family isn’t complete. Not yet.

Rey shook her head, “I do want to see him, but I think I’d like to be alone for a while.”

“Okay, Priestess.”

That one small word was a knife through her heart. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten, just that she’d accepted what she’d done and moved on. Her family had no idea that she’d forsaken her vows…and that’s how it would stay.

They could never know.

Never.

She would go back to the cloth. If she couldn’t have Kylo then she would return to her first love, Apollo.

“That reminds me. Do you think you could ask for new robes to be brought to me?”

“Of course!” Finn smiled. “Poe and I can do anything you need. Just say the word.”

She smiled warmly at them and ushered them to the door, eager to get them out of her room.

When they were gone, she pressed her back against the closed door and let herself slide down to the floor, the tears coming freely now. What was wrong with her? She was never such an emotional mess. She was strong. She was a Priestess. A member of the royal family.

 

 


	15. Water

“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.” 

― [ **Madeline Miller**](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/176372.Madeline_Miller), [ **The Song of Achilles**](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/16176791)

 

Ch 14:

Water

 

The tent flaps rustled. It was Phasma and Maz bringing dinner. They hadn’t spoken since the morning Hux died. Even in his thoughts, Kylo choked over the name. Gone. Hux was gone, Rey was gone…and he’d let Han live. He’d never been more disgusted with himself.

“You should eat something. You don’t have to talk. But eat,” said Phasma, taking her usual seat amongst the floor cushions. “Is Rey at the grotto?”

His hand trembled as he brought the wine flagon to his lips. “Rey’s gone.”

Unlike Phasma, Maz looked concerned, “Gone where? Did Snoke..?”

“She ran back to Jedha. She left in the night. I let her go.”

“Good,” said Phasma, “I don’t mean to sound cruel I know you cared for her but she was a danger to this war. In Jedha, she is safe and you are where you belong. Fighting for Greece.”

“Who says I’m fighting?”

Phasma’s ice blue eyes rolled, “I thought we’d gotten past your strike. You’re strike killed Hux.”

“No, you killed Hux,” Kylo stood, “I know it was you who put the idea in his head. Hux was many things but a tactical genius was not one of them. That plan was all you. I don’t know if you did it to trick me back into fighting or if you simply thought he’d win the battle. Either way, you were wrong.”

Phasma stood, her impressive height matching his own, “I was protecting my people. I had faith that you would come through for your country, but my faith was misplaced. You’re no Greek. You’re still just that pathetic boy from Jedha.”

“Get out,” Kylo growled. The only thing stopping him from wrapping his fingers around her milky white throat was their decade of friendship. War brought out the worst in people. Phasma was no different. Before this war, they’d been friends. They could never go back to that now, but he wouldn’t kill her for it.

At least not now.

If she continued to try his patience, all bets were off.

She turned on her heel, nose in the air and haughtily stomped out.

Maz lingered, “Rey loves you,” said the old healer.

“I know that.”

“Then, what are you still doing here?”

“I have a plan.”

“You better have one. And I better be on a ship, sailing safely home before that plan comes to fruition. Understood?”

In spite of himself, he smiled, “Understood.”

She gave a firm nod and a humph and left.

 

* * *

 

Rey had never felt more alone in her life. This palace was no longer home. Because home was not a place. She’d learned that now. Home was a feeling. It was how she felt when she was with Kylo.

Her hand traveled to the pearl necklace, clutching the only piece of him she carried with her…and an idea slowly took form.

She got up at once and slipped out of the room. She went to the baths. For what she had planned, she needed water and that was the first place that came to mind.

She glanced around to be sure she was alone before she stepped onto the first step, sinking to the ankles in warm still water. She wrapped her fingers around the string of pearls that hung just below her collarbone. She sucked in a breath and breathed out, “Anakin?”

When she opened her eyes he was there, emerging from the steam that hung in the air, like a ghost come to life. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. He’d told her when they met that he was a hugger and she was in need of a mountain of hugs. She clutched him in her arms. His body a solid reminder that her time with Kylo had been real. That she wasn’t brainwashed. That she’d really grown to care for the Greeks she’d spent time with. That they were just people on different sides of a war.

Slowly, Rey released her hold on Kylo’s grandfather. “I’m so glad that worked. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get you here.”

Anakin patted her shoulder, “That’s what the talisman is for. You always have a way to find us.”

She stepped back at the word us, glancing over Anakin’s shoulder to see young Master Kenobi. “Grandfather?”

He smiled at her and opened his arms. She ran splashed over to hug him. “It’s good to see you again, Rey.” He pulled back to look at her face, “But you look troubled.”

“I don’t know what to do,” her lower lip trembled. “We were going to leave. To sail away on his ship and settle somewhere that no one would recognize us. But then Hux was killed and Han…” a sob tore from her lips.

“Rey?”

Her head shot up as his voice washed over her. “Kylo?”

Their Grandfather’s turned as well. Sure enough, Kylo stood knee deep in the water just a few feet away from all of them.

Confusion colored his face. “What is this?”

Rey clumsily waded through the water. If she could’ve run to him she would’ve but she had to settle for splashing in a very unladylike way, “How did you get here?” She reached him and threw herself into his arms.

She half expected to fall through him but he was real—her body met his solid muscles and warm skin. He tucked her head under his chin and buried his face in her hair. Rey would’ve stayed there for the rest of time had Anakin not let out a happy sigh and said, “See, Kenobi, I told you they’d work it out.”

Rey tried to pull away, but Kylo was having none of that. He turned her around so he could wrap his arms around her from behind, keeping her body close.

“I still don’t understand how you’re here,” said Rey, craning her neck to glance up at him.

“Where exactly is here?” He asked “I went to the grotto looking for these two. But then, I saw you.”

Anakin clasped his hands in front of his body. “You can see Rey, just as you have always been able to see me near the water. When I come to you at the beach or in the grotto, I am not really where you are. I never leave Olympus.”

“I know,” Kylo said impatiently.

“So, Rey is in Jedha and you are at the grotto. Yet we are all together. We are everywhere at once.”

“I understand how Kylo was able to do that. He is a demigod. But why can I…” Her eyes fixed on her Grandfather, “Oh.”

Rey turned in Kylo’s arms. She reached up so her fingertips could graze his cheeks. “You’re really here. Kylo, this is perfect. We can be together now!”

He glanced down at their legs, “Only if we are knee-deep in water it seems. That might make certain activities more difficult.”

Kenobi cleared his throat. “That’s still my Granddaughter you are talking about.”

Rey vaguely heard Anakin say, “We’ll leave you two alone…Privacy, Kenobi. She’s a grown woman.”

She wasn’t paying much attention to the gods, though. Not with Kylo once again in her arms.

She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, sighing at the familiar demand of his returning kiss. “I can’t stand being so far from you.”

He kissed her again whispering, “I don’t want to talk right now,” against her lips.

Rey opened her mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss, forgetting entirely about where they were and that anyone could walk in.

Which at that moment, Finn and Poe did.

“Rey?” Poe said.

Rey and Kylo froze. Under her breath, she said, “Do you think they can see you?”

Kylo shrugged.

“What are you doing in here? Fully clothed? Why didn’t you lock the door?”

Rey let her arms, which had been locked around Kylo’s neck, float down to her sides. She slowly turned to face the intruders. “I just haven’t been in a warm bath in so long, I got carried away. I just jumped right in, clothes and all. Oops.”

Finn and Poe exchanged worried glances. Between the conversation in her room and this, she was sure they thought she’d left her sanity back on the beach.

She slowly waded through the water toward her family. She stepped out of the knee deep water and strode past them. “I’m just going to go back to bed now.”

 

* * *

 

To Kylo, she’d been standing in the center of the grotto, the rocks painted silver by moonlight, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen until Poe’s insipid voice broke their embrace.

Rey’s image grew fuzzy before his eyes. His fingers that had been cradling her skin, passed right through. Before he could blink he was alone again in the grotto.

That wouldn’t do.

He spoke to her in his mind. _Tie a silk to your balcony so I’ll know which room is yours._

He hoped she heard because the moment the words were spoken he was running.

He didn’t waste any time. They only had a few hours of moonlight left. He’d need to be back at the camp before dawn, but he didn’t care that it was almost no time. He needed to see her.

If anything, seeing her like that in the grotto made the ache in his chest worse. He needed to hold her, taste her, claim her.

He still knew the countryside of Jedha well. It didn’t take him long to find the back trail, the same trail Rey had used in her escape attempt.

He made it to the olive grove in fifteen minutes and was gazing up at the walls of Jedha just a few minutes later. He pulled the cloak he’d donned for the occasion up over his head and slipped through the passage hidden for the royal family in case of emergency. Then, he was standing in the palace gardens.

And, to his relief, a purple silk wafted in the breeze from the second balcony in the row. Kylo climbed up, narrowly avoiding discovery when a passing patrol guard happened by.

But finally, he was on the balcony, “Rey?” He whispered.

She sprang through the curtains, jumping up into his arms at once.

“Inside, inside,” he said, “There are guards down there.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them inside, lips already connected to hers. When they came up for air he said, “What did you say to Finn and Poe?”

“They couldn’t see you. I just told them I was going to bed.”

“So other people can’t see us when we visit each other. Good to know.”

Rey unlocked her ankles behind her back and slid back to the ground. She took his hand and led him to her bed. It had been so long since Kylo had been inside the Jedhan palace. He tried not to look at the furniture or the intricate paintings on the walls, all of it flooded his mind with memories he preferred to keep locked away.

It was strange to think this was Rey’s home, not his. That he would make love to her in _her_ bed. In _her_ palace. Just down the hall from where he’d spent the first nine years of his life.

“Does it feel good to be home?” She asked.

“Not exactly,” he said, “It’s strange more than anything.”

Rey went to the door and made sure it was locked, “Han is upstairs being treated. They said—“

Kylo stalked up behind her, pressing her against the door so her back was against his front. He braced his hands against the door on either side of her head and leaned in to growl in her ear, “I didn’t come here to talk about him.”

She nodded.

He reached down and yanked her skirts up over her hips, exposing her backside. He hadn’t planned for it to happen this way. He’d planned to be gentle and to savor what time they had together, but the moment he saw her he knew he wouldn’t be able to wait long.

Her breath was coming in quick bursts already. He snaked a hand around her front, between her and the door and found her already wet and ready for him.

He groaned as spun her around and pressed her back against the door. He yanked the knot at his hips until it came undone and the fabric fell away. Then he lifted her hips until she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He slammed into her in one hard motion. Her back thumped against the door with each thrust. “Gods, Rey.”

He was being too loud, and a part of him didn’t care. Rey answered his cries with her own. Telling him how good it felt. Every word made his pride swell and his heartache because it couldn’t be like this always.

They both finished quickly the first time and then moved from the door to the bed, where they finished undressing and curled up together to rest before resuming their lovemaking.

Rey played with the strand of beads behind Kylo’s ear, her skin still flushed. “What are we going to do?”

“As long as I stay at the camp, I can find out what Snoke is planning.”

“And you’ll tell me? So, you’re going to help Jedha win this war?”

“I don’t want to see Jedha fall. But that doesn’t mean I want to rejoin my family. I don’t Rey. I don’t want to see my birthplace burn, but that’s all this is.”

“And what happens after? When we win the war and the Greeks go home?”

“We will leave together. Like we planned.”

His heart thrummed too loud in his ears as he waited for her answer. A part of him feared she might’ve changed her mind after everything.

“Alright,” she nodded, “After this is over, and my family is safe. We will leave.”

 

* * *

 

The dawn came too fast and before she knew it, she was waving Kylo off from the balcony. She retreated back into her room and threw herself on the bed. Her body was pleasantly exhausted in all the right ways and her mind was begging for sleep.

She sighed into her pillows. Content for one single moment before knocking commenced at her bedroom door.

“Rey? Sweetie are you awake?” It was Leia.

Rey ground into the pillow before climbing to her feet, wrapping a blanket around herself to cover her nakedness, and padding to the door.

She cracked the door open enough to peer through, “Leia? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I just brought you these. Poe said you needed new ones,” in her hands was a perfectly folded white robe, “Can I come in?”

“I’m actually not feeling well this morning. I think I’ll stay in bed for a while.”

Leia’s face was crestfallen and she made no effort to hide it. Rey felt for her. Her husband was battling for his life upstairs and she hadn’t seen or spoken to Rey in weeks. Rey had never felt more guilty for lying but it was all she could do to keep her eyes open at this point.

“Well, here,” Leia passed off the robes. “I’ll send Rose in with some food in a few hours.”

“Thank you,” Rey forced a smile and shut the door.

 

It went on that way every day for the next week. Rey spent her nights with Kylo while her mornings were a mix between faking illness or falling asleep at the breakfast table. There had been no news from Kylo about what Snoke was planning and the war had been quiet. Rey didn’t like the quiet.

She could only keep lying to her family for so long before they grew suspicious.

It was a “faking illness morning” when Rose knocked and entered her room. Rose had worked at the palace since Rey had lived there. She and her sister had both been ladies maids to Leia at one point before Rose began serving Rey.

Rey sat up in bed, grateful that she’d remembered to slip on a night shift before going back to sleep that morning.

“I brought your breakfast,” said the petite woman, setting a tray down at the foot of the bed.

“Thank you, Rose,” Rey said with a forced smile.

“You have been so tired lately, do you not sleep well at night? Do you have nightmares—from—from your time as a prisoner?”

Rey sat straighter, “What? No. Nothing like that. I just, have to adjust to being home, that’s all.”

“Well, everyone’s worried about you. Oh, Leia wanted me to tell you that Master Sill is coming up to the palace this afternoon to escort you to the temple. They want you to resume your duties. We all think it will help you adjust. You always loved it there.”

Rey’s stomach sank down through the mattress to the floor. “Lovely,” she said.

“I’ll come fetch you when he’s here,” Rose went to the door, “Get some rest.”

 

* * *

 

Rose shut the door behind her and turned to face the expectant princes.

“Anything?” Poe asked.

Rose shrugged, “She said she’s fine. I don’t know what you two are so worried about. She was a prisoner for weeks. She needs time to get past that.”

Finn shook his head, “We heard noises the other night. She was talking to someone in the middle of the night.”

“It sounded like talking wasn’t the only thing she was doing,” Poe grumbled. Finn elbowed him and turned back to Rose.

Rose’s cheeks burned, “Rey is a Priestess. How dare you imply what I think you’re implying.”

Poe shook his head, “I’m telling you, something’s not right.”

“Well, I will let you know if I see or hear anything worrisome but otherwise, I want no part of this. Rey is my friend.”

Rose stalked off down the hall toward the kitchens, eager to see about supper before noon.


	16. In This Life or Any Other

“He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.” 

― [ **Madeline Miller**](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/176372.Madeline_Miller), [ **The Song of Achilles**](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/16176791)

 

Ch 16:

In This Life or Any Other

 

If anyone had asked Kylo what he’d imagined for his life. This wouldn’t have been it. He went from being the most feared warlord in twelve countries; a demigod; to pouting in his tent over a former priestess. His biological parents’ charge no less.

The old Kylo would’ve ended this war by now. He’d have walked into Snoke’s tent and slit the High King’s throat and that would’ve been that. But there would be repercussions if he did that. The other kings would come for him. Kylo was confident he could fight them all off individually but not if they came all at once.

If he died…what would become of Rey? She was ruined for the temple and for respectable marriage. He couldn’t leave her alone with no prospects. All things he wished he’d thought of before spreading her legs…but there was no hope for it now. It wasn’t like he’d planned to love the girl. It had just _happened._

Kylo shifted uncomfortably on his furs, trying to imagine it was Rey’s plush bed at the palace. The ache in his back shattered the illusion. No matter how hard he wished it, he was still in a tent on the beach while she was in a palace.

Things beyond the tent were quiet. No battles were being fought due to the weather. Kylo was growing restless; weary of the silence. Snoke was planning something. It wasn’t like the High King to bide his time. Wasn’t like him at all.

Kylo folded an arm behind his head and shut his eyes. “ _Rey?”_

 _“You scared me,”_ she answered at once. She sounded so near, he could almost imagine her there, splayed on his chest, her breath tickling his skin. If he closed his eyes he could feel the warmth of her.

 _“What are you doing right now?”_ He asked

 _“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,”_ she said.

_“Try me.”_

_“Your mother is worried about me, so she sent me to the temple to resume my duties as Appolo’s Priestess.”_

Kylo sat up, fists clenching in the furs. “ _What did you tell her?”_

_“Well, I’m here so…I said nothing, obviously. I couldn’t tell her no, could I?”_

_“No, I suppose not,”_ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “ _I hate this. Will this war never end?”_

Rey chuckled, _“Says the most feared warlord in the land.”_

“ _I’m serious. I tire of these kings and their politics. Finn isn’t coming home. This war was never about him.”_

“ _I hate it too,_ ” she said, “ _I’m lying to everyone and now to the Gods themselves. I talked to Anakin and Master Kenobi this morning. They said they understood but I still feel horrible.”_

_“You should just tell my mother to stop being a meddling cow.“_

_“Ben!”_

All sound in the room came to a halt. Rey fell silent in his mind. Aware of what she’d said and aware that his heart had stopped when he heard it. It was like that sometimes now; their feelings would blend together into one indistinguishable amalgamation.

She reached out hesitantly, “Kylo…I—”

 _“It’s fine,”_ he answered.

“ _It just slipped out.”_

 _“It’s fine, Priestess,”_ he growled, knowing she’d hate being called that as much as he hated being called by his birth name.

Kylo shut her out of his mind. He rose and stalked out of his tent. This was about the time he’d usually punch someone just for the thrill of it; just to feel a bone crunching beneath his fist and release all the power the gods had infused into his blood.

Who did his meddling mother think she was forcing Rey to go to the temple? Granted, no one knew that Rey could no longer be a priestess…but still.

Gods, what he’d give to go spar with Hux…but he could never do that again. His feet carried him to the sparring hill anyway. He didn’t know whether to cry or start smashing things, neither seemed fulfilling enough so he perched on the tall boulder where not even a month ago he’d sat with Rey and Hux, laughing and eating. What had he become? It was laughable really. He'd become the thing he always hated. He'd become soft.

He looked out at the tents and ships on the beach…and he spotted something large and out of place. A structure of some sort. Thoughts of the shambles that was his life fled as curiosity took over. He got to his feet, squinting against the sun, trying to make out details. It almost looked like a statue; it was certainly large enough to be one. But it was made of wood, not bronze. He could see several men standing near a pulley rope. Which each synchronized tug, a bundle of twigs rose higher and higher toward another man perched at the top of the statue. He waved his arms for them to continue to lift it.

What in the name of Hades _was_ that thing?

Phasma would know. Phasma knew everything.

Kylo raced down the hill and strode across the beach with long sure strides. Soldiers gasped as he passed, heads turning to watch the warlord. Kylo heard the whispers: _He’s back! He’s going to rejoin the fight!_ He trained his eyes forward, not acknowledging any of them. Let them think what they wanted to think.

He reached the statue. Up close he determined it was meant to be a beast of some sort. Four legs, a trunk, and a headless neck. Sure enough, at the base of the hind leg, he spotted a streak of platinum blonde.

“Phasma,” he called.

Her head whipped around at once, “Kylo? I’m surprised to see you outside your tent.”

Kylo shrugged, “Had to happen sometime. What is this?”

She turned back to the monstrosity, “Something to pass the time. That’s all.”

Kylo tried not to be affronted. There was a time when she shared all the inner workings of her schemes with him. Now, she wouldn’t even tell him what it was. “Phase,” he said, “You can lie to kings but never to me. I’ve known you half my life.”

“Funny,” she said, “I feel as if I don’t know you at all.”

Kylo exhaled and gave a dramatic sweep of his eyes, “Nothing has changed. I’m still the same man you sailed here with.”

She didn’t turn but her eyes found him, “Are you?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Love changes a person.”

Kylo clicked his tongue, “Love,” he scoffed, “I don’t love Rey. I sent her away.” It was a lie. He felt it the moment the words were spoken. He hadn't really acknowledged that he loved Rey until now, but saying that he didn't love her was like a knife twisting in his gut. Sharp and painful in its wrongness. He absolutely loved her; and that was an absolutely devastating realization.

Phasma scowled, “You’re right. You haven’t changed,” her face relaxed, “That’s a shame."

There was more she wanted to say. He felt it in the silence between them. She turned again and said, "If I tell you what this is you have to keep your mouth shut about it. Can you do that?”

“Who do I talk to besides you?”

She studied him, arriving at a silent decision before saying, “Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

Rey stood before the unlit candles on the altar. She knew the prayers. She knew the lighting order of the candles. And yet she hadn’t been able to bring herself to light one single wick. She’d been here nearly two hours.

Her eyes kept wandering away from the candles to the statue looming above. The statue of a godlike man, glaring down his long Greek nose at her.

It was an odd thing. To worship a God. It hadn’t seemed odd until she’d met them. Until she’d found out that she herself was half god. She supposed she’d always wanted to be a Priestess because the Gods had called to her. She’d felt their presence and love when she was alone in the world. It had felt like home. But maybe the Gods had spoken to her for a different reason. Maybe she’d heard their call because she was like them.

Finding out about her bloodline changed everything. Something had awoken in her and there was no going back.

She knew where she belonged. Besides, the only god she had any interest in worshiping now was Kylo. The only face she wanted staring down at her while she was on her knees was his…not this bronze Apollo.

The flint fell from her fingers and she turned to run for the door. She knocked over another acolyte in the narrow aisle shouting a hasty, “I’m sorry. I should never have come here. Tell the Masters I’m sorry.”

Air turned to syrup in her throat, breath coming more ragged as she neared the door. Finally, her finger splayed out on the wood and shoved it open with a thud. Sunlight enveloped her, reflecting off everything in its path.

She sighed. She felt free. The temple grew small behind her as she walked along the well-worn path toward Jedha’s walls. As she walked she rehearsed what she’d say to her family; how she’d explain this change of heart.

_Being held captive changed me. I never really knew how much I needed people until I was isolated from them._

It was a bit much but they’d buy it. She hoped.

After all, they’d forgiven Poe for stealing Finn and igniting the war that almost claimed Han’s life. In light of that, they’d have to forgive her choice to leave the temple. what was one less priestess next to a war?

Rey passed through the gates but veered right headed toward the palace gardens rather than the front doors. It was here she stumbled upon King Luke.

He was sitting cross-legged at the edge of the fish pond, eyes closed. They hadn’t spoken much of what transpired on the beach. She couldn’t tell what he thought of finding her in Kylo’s possession. She also couldn’t tell if Luke knew who Kylo really was. He had to have recognized him. Even she now saw Kylo in every line of Leia’s face. the resemblance was so clear she wondered how she hadn't realized sooner.

One of Luke’s eye peeked open when Rey took a seat beside him. He shut his eye once more and chuckled.

“I told my sister that it was too soon to send you back to the temple.”

Rey picked at a string at the hem of her cloud-like robes, wrapping it around her finger and letting it unravel. “I think I might’ve rushed into my vows before. Maybe I wasn’t ready yet.”

“Because of Ben.”

Her eyes widened and she turned her neck, meeting with his now open and rueful stare. “So you _do_ know. Do Han and Leia?”

“No,” said Luke. “They’ve never gotten in close proximity of Kylo of Ren without his helmet to shield his face. I plan to keep it that way.”

“Why? They miss him terribly. I know they do.”

“He’s a monster, Rey.”

Rey’s face hardened, “He’s no such thing.”

“If my sister found out what her son had really become, it would break her. I will not let that happen. When this war ends Kylo will either be dead or on a ship back to Greece. It makes no matter to me, so long as this secret leaves with him. Let my sister believe that her sondied many years ago, bathed in Apollo’s light, a proud son of Jedha.”

“You don’t even know him.”

Luke frowned, “And you do? You were his prisoner, Rey. He took advantage of you.”

“He took nothing I wasn’t willing to give,” she practically growled. Her veins flooded with unfamiliar desire to lash out. She couldn’t tell ifit was her rage or Kylo’s; she wasn't sure she cared either way.

If she remained sitting beside him she was sure she'd hit him. So, Rey stood, brushing off her robes, “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you," she said, "You hid yourself away for the last ten years. Where were you when your Kingdom needed you? When Leia needed you?”

Luke sucked in a long breath and let it out just as slow, in no hurry to answer. At length, he said, “I’m the one who told my sister to take you in…I saw you once, in the market and I knew what you were. I _knew._ I saw it,” he looked up at her again. His blue eyes became deep wells of pain and Rey began to feel herself drowning. “You brushed past me, trying to get away from Unkar and for a second your hand touched mine. You couldn’t have been more than six or seven. But in that split-second, I saw this war, and your love for Kylo. I saw what it would do to us all. So, I gave you to Leia, still grieving over her lost boy. I encouraged her to push toward the temple. I thought I could prevent the future I saw from coming to pass.”

Luke shook his head and turned back to the pond. “But you still found him—Ben—and he still made you love him. Even with your vows between you and his hatred of his family. I suppose you would always find each other. In this life or any other.”

Rey could honestly say it was the first time in her life she’d been struck speechless. She had absolutely nothing to say. So she ran.


End file.
